Taken
by lightning bird
Summary: Captured by the enemy for what they think he knows, can Dexter and DeeDee survive long enough to be rescued?
1. Brother and Sister

_Allow me to start by thanking you for reading this. I'm a long-time fan of Cartoon Network and their original cartoons. The advent of _Fusion Fall_ is something of a dream come true, to have so many beloved characters together at once. That said, I must admit that I haven't played the game. My computer dates back to the early Paleocene and would implode if I asked it to handle something so big and complex. However, my imagination is like a dog with a bone and in a matter of days (maybe even hours) and after a lot of gaping at all the pretty trailers, stories began to take shape in my mind that would not leave me alone. Seeing as how it's dangerous to suppress urges, I started writing._

_The version of this universe I'm presenting is my own take on what would happen if all these cartoons converged and it won't be absolute to the game (unless a miracle occurs and I actually learn how to play). I've kept some aspects of the game, abandoned others, and basically have had fun picking on an older version of Dexter. I have not read _any_ stories involving the characters I'm using, nor am I up on recent developments or trends in the fandoms. If there are any similarities to anyone else's work out there, it's purely coincidence. I'm just here having fun, and I hope you readers will as well._

_So in my version of things, the Cartoon Network characters are united against the invaders from Planet Fusion. The Kids Next Door are the backbone of Earth's defenses, providing troops and support for the war with the assistance of other CN characters. The Power Puff Girls, Samurai Jack, and Ben10 are the heavy hitters against Fuse's hybrid monsters. Dexter is the mechanical genius responsible for developing armor, defenses, and countering all biological threats. The supreme commander of Earth's forces is Mandy, because seriously, could you see her tolerating_ anyone else _in charge?_

_All mistakes are mine. All characters belong to Cartoon Network. I promise to return them once I'm done playing. _

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

**Taken**

**Chapter One: Brother and Sister**

"Dex-ter!"

He drew a deep breath and held it, trying not to explode at the sound of a squeaky voice singing out his name. Since he had begun his struggle to function in the same universe as Billy, it seemed only fair that he put equal or greater effort into getting along with his own sister even though she had long ago perfected the art of irritating him.

"Whaaaat?" he growled, trying to concentrate on three computer screens at once.

"What are you doing?"

She was leaning right over his shoulder, close enough so that her blonde pigtails tickled his neck. He slowly counted to ten before he replied.

"I am trying to help win this war in which we are engaged. Remember how Earth is next on the menu for Planet Fusion?" Slapping away her hair, he tried to get back to work, wondering for the umpteenth time how anyone with his level of intelligence had ended up related to anyone so empty-headed. Few people that knew him would have recognized the genius scientist through the aggravated boy just then, but DeeDee knew exactly how to get under her little brother's skin. "What are you doing besides annoying me?"

"Nothing! Just visiting," she cooed, pulling his chair away from the computer screens. She twirled him around so he was facing her. "I haven't seen you in days."

"Has it been days?" he wondered. He pushed the chair back and returned to his data, adjusting his glasses as he moved. "It doesn't seem so long to me."

"Yup. Four days, actually. I have to make sure my kid brother gets out of here now and then. Hey, how can you type with gloves on?"

Glad for the excuse to get something done, he demonstrated. "I can't type without them."

But she wasn't listening. He would have been surprised if she had. She abandoned his work station and pirouetted in the open space of the laboratory, dancing about gracefully, a splash of pink and gold amidst the gleam of polished stainless steel. For several minutes she took advantage of the large floor, humming to herself as she practiced ballet while her brother ignored her and bent over his never-ending research. As they had matured (or at least grown older) DeeDee and Dexter had found a tolerable balance between his compulsive creativity and her vapid impulses. They did not complement each other - there was a gap between their intelligence levels comparable to the distance from the earth to the moon - but when they had been drawn into this conflict to save their planet from Fuse's invasion the greater part of their sibling rivalry had been set aside for the time being. That was not to say that it had _all _been set aside, or that DeeDee was any less a menace when loosed upon a room full of delicate equipment, but they depended upon one another if for no other reason than simply to have someone with whom they could argue on a regular and familiar basis.

DeeDee spun about and came to a dramatic climax in her impromptu dance, only to end by blinking down at the floor beneath her. "Ooh, Dexter! I heard a squeak! I think you have mice in your lab!"

"That is impossible, DeeDee. I am not doing any organic-based experiments at this time. And if I do have unauthorized mice I will build a robo-cat to exterminate them. And this is a laboratory! One I wish you would exit," he added under his breath.

"Whatever!" She darted from one control panel to the next. "Ooh, what does this button do?"

He didn't even look up. "It blows up the whole planet."

"Really? So what does this button do?"

"It blows up the planet twice."

She laughed. "I don't think you're telling the truth!"

"Try it and find out," Dexter grumbled tonelessly, which he considered an improvement over his usual biting sarcasm.

"Okay! Here goes!"

"DeeDee!" He whipped around, pointing imperiously. "Get away from that button! Right now!"

She smiled and giggled, delighted that he was her brother, delighted to have riled him, delighted by his show of temper and how his Russian accent – for which there was no reasonable explanation for him to have since they had grown up in the American Midwest – sharpened as he got closer and closer to throwing a tantrum. She took a big step toward the center of the room, sliding her feet on the polished metal floor in an exaggerated show of obedience. Her next words were cut off when a series of faint, metallic clangs came from beneath her, followed by a low rumble. DeeDee stared down at her pink shoes, able to feel vibrations moving through the earth.

"Forget mice, Dexter, I think you've got rats."

He stared down at her feet as well, able to sense the rumbling, his eyes wide. A thousand thoughts flashed through his mind, a thousand details of this laboratory and its construction and security and ventilation systems, its equipment and computers and storage. A thousand things DeeDee would never grasp and there was no time to explain. The laboratory was built into solid bedrock, housed far beneath their headquarters. There were layers upon layers of security features all centered on _him_ and keeping him safe so that Earth stood a chance in this war against Fuse. He knew all at once that security was about to be breached.

"DeeDee! Get away from there! Move! Computress, Invasion Protocol Alpha! Seal the laboratory! DeeDee, come on!"

He was already running for his sister. She stared at him in dazed confusion as alarms blared and machinery shut down and emergency lights snapped on all around her. Seizing her scrawny wrist, Dexter yanked her toward the wall as the rumble reached a crescendo, The floor where she had been standing began to swell upwards as something tried to force its was through. DeeDee screamed, but she let him pull her stumbling toward the exit as heavy, many-layered blast doors lowered.

"Warning. Warning. Invasion Protocol Alpha initiated," droned the computer. "This is not a drill. Systems shutting down. Commencing dump of all stored data. Laboratory under lock down. Back up systems shutting dow-"

A sickening shriek of metal being twisted and broken drowned out the announcement as the floor's plating finally gave way and the sound of machinery came roaring through from below with so much force they were knocked to the ground. A stench of exhaust and the tang of shattered granite filled the air. There came the sound of many, many things moving beneath their feet. Part war machine, part monster, part of that indomitable green slime from Planet Fusion, the grotesque beings took whatever form Fuse needed them to take for a given task. Once their mission was accomplished, they would be re-absorbed and re-formed for the next battle. He had seen them take many forms, weird and unnatural hybrids of advanced technology and primitive creatures, at once brilliant and crude and deadly.

Having no intention of making their present task an easy one, Dexter hauled DeeDee along. Focused on getting to the escape hatch before they were trapped in here with whatever form of Fusion Mech had infiltrated their headquarters, Dexter did not bother looking behind them. His sister did, however, and she let out a scream of panic.

"Dexter! M-M-Monsters! Fusion Mechs!"

"Yes, I know," was his whole response, hauling her upright. He did not need to be told the only obvious answer to this assault. He did not even need to hear the sound of them moving through the tunnel they had carved. Logic alone told him what he was up against. "Move!"

They didn't have a chance. He knew that already. Shoving DeeDee in front of him, he pushed her toward the concealed emergency exit a few yards from the blast doors. She was so tall and gangly (and he was so disappointingly short) that he could do little to shield her if the Mechs started firing. They were almost there. Up a few stairs. The hatch was manual, not under Computress' control. Almost there. Get to the door . . .

"Fire!"

That voice. He knew it.

Too well.

Grabbing DeeDee around the waist, he snatched her back and away, pulling her down to the floor as a laser blast smacked into the wall before them. He gasped, stunned at the impact, momentarily blinded by the brightness. In the dim red emergency lights he could tell their escape route had been destroyed. There were three others built into the laboratory, but they would never reach them now.

DeeDee was whimpering and mewing in terror, clinging to him with a strength that belied her slight frame. He made no attempt to loosen her grip but held onto his sister just as tightly, hauling her upright with him. His fear matched hers, though his reaction was not tears but cold anger. By his estimate, less than three minutes had passed since DeeDee had mentioned rats. This invasion was surgically precise, so swift that they would hit and run before Earth's forces knew what had happened.

What did he expect, really, considering who must have planned it?

He looked up, pushing his glasses back in place the better to see who dared attack him in his own domain.

"Take them," ordered a barely-discernable figure that moved toward them through the gloom. The voice was cold, emotionless. Three towering Fusion Mechs flanked him, their sensors glowing red. "Once they are on the transport, destroy this place."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Dexter?"

"Yes, DeeDee?"

"You're really not hurt then?"

"No. A few bruises, nothing else."

"Good."

"And you? Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm okay. Um . . . This isn't what I meant when I said I had to make sure you get out now and then."

"Thank you. I figured as much."

"Ben and Number One and a few other people were worried you spend too much time down in your lab. At least when we were home you had to go to school and you'd get out and get some sunshine."

"Mandy will have me arrested if I step a foot outside. She's already told me so and I believe her. I'm happy down in the laboratory, DeeDee. Tell them not to worry."

"You don't eat right."

"The food here is terrible. The cooks are all Kids Next Door. They seem convinced that no child in existence actually _wants_ to consume vegetables."

"You didn't used to like them. Not until that experiment went wrong."

"It did _not_ go wrong. I simply used myself as a test subject and the end result is that I enjoy eating vegetables. I asked for broccoli once and they thought I was insane."

"Oh, they think that anyway."

"Uh, yes, thank you, I know that."

"You're welcome. Do you know where we are?"

"In a holding cell in a Fusion Transport Mech. And no, I don't know where we're going."

"Oh. Do you think our friends will come find us?"

"Once they figure out we're missing, yes."

"What do you mean?"

"My laboratory has been destroyed. I heard the order given as we were being taken. Mandy will have to lift the Invasion Protocol Alpha lockdown to get into the laboratory. Then they must clear the wreckage, figure out that we're missing, figure out how these Mechs got in past the defenses, and figure out where they're taking us."

"How did they get in?"

"They tunneled through bedrock and came up through the floor. _That_ will not happen again."

"I'm sorry about your lab."

"It can be rebuilt. Luckily Invasion Protocol Alpha wipes out all the information in the data banks. I will have to completely reprogram the whole system . . . again. Ugh."

"Isn't that good? Fuse won't get your stuff, will he?"

"Not what was in the laboratory's computers. But that's not what they were after."

"You think?"

"DeeDee, what did they _take_?"

"Um . . . us! Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

"Do you think they'll hurt us?"

"I . . . won't let them hurt you."


	2. Panic and Reason

My thanks to thanan and tr for the reviews! I greatly appreciate your comments. If in my ignorance I make any huge, honkin' errors please let me know and I'll do my best to correct them. Enjoy! - LB

**Chapter Two: Panic and Reason**

By his best estimate they traveled for four or five hours, though by land, water or air he could not say since the transport did not feel in any way similar to the modes of transportation he was used to. When finally the Mech stopped moving, they were moved at laser point from ship to cell through an echoing, run-down facility. Dexter made no attempt to be subtle as he took in their surroundings. The halls they were moved through were old, industrial, and smelt of burned metal. The windows were dark with grime, but through a few broken panes he caught sight of smoke stacks and conveyors, long abandoned. He could only conclude that they were in a metal refinery or steel mill. It was cold here and night was falling. With a little more information he was sure he could pinpoint their exact location.

Not that such information would be immediately useful, seeing as how his communicator had been taken away from him by their captors. He was glad that was all they took, and he hoped they took no more.

His sister stumbled alongside him, terrified. DeeDee's face was stained with tears but so far she had managed to keep from bursting out and bewailing their fate at the top of her lungs. She looked very miserable and he felt a stab of guilt that she should suffer on his account, even though he was no less frightened or miserable. Dexter hesitated, and then held out his hand to his only sister. She sniffed and latched onto him tightly, drawing closer and even trying a small smile of thanks. He gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze. Given his greater calm, anyone looking at them would have thought that Dexter was the elder of the two even though she towered over him.

The cell that was to be their new habitation was strangely out of place in the midst of the old factory. Housed deep beneath the complex, it was stark and white and completely modern. It was also annoyingly secure, as he discovered the moment the door closed seamlessly behind them. He inspected every wall, every inch of the place. Nothing. The air vents were very small and well out of reach of both of them. The entire ceiling was a light panel, glaring bright and with a sickly green tint to it. Other than that . . . nothing.

He sighed, leaning his hands against the cold metal door and hanging his head, giving in to his frustration for a moment. That simple gesture undid all of DeeDee's resolve and she sniffled as the tears came in earnest. Dropping to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her knees and hid her face.

"What're we gonna do, Dexter?" she whined.

He straightened, turning to face her. "We're not going to panic. That will get us nowhere."

"What else is there to do?"

"We could try reasoning out our situation, perhaps."

She gave him a blank look, and he threw his hands up in defeat.

"Fine. Panic. Let me know when you're done."

He folded his arms and looked away in a huff, but his refusal to indulge her was enough to distract DeeDee from the impulse to waste her energy on tears. Reasoning was not her forte, but given the fact that Fusion Monsters had snatched them clean out of headquarters (which, she thought with a very small spark of glee, would make Mandy _furious_) and were holding them prisoner, she was willing to give it her best try. She sniffed, hugged her knees tighter, and ventured,

"Well . . . what do they want?"

"Us," he said simply. He clasped his hands behind his back and slowly paced. This was his usual stance for when he was thinking and true to form, DeeDee just kept prodding him.

"What for?" She frowned, watching him walk back and forth.

"I can think of about a hundred reasons without straining."

When he wasn't forthcoming with any of those reasons, DeeDee ordered, "Name one."

"To impede our war effort."

"What does that mean?"

"To slow down our side of the fight."

"Oh. Well, how did the Mechs know we'd both be in your lab just then to come in and get us?"

He whirled on her, his blue eyes blazing with something that might have been anger but also might have been pride. Pointing a finger at her for emphasis, Dexter exclaimed, "That, DeeDee, is probably the most intelligent question you have ever asked in your life!"

She waited, triumphant, and finally demanded, "So what's the answer?"

He strode over to where she sat in a knot on the floor. Leaning over, he said in a tight whisper, "There is a spy in our headquarters."

She gasped, and he gestured sharply for her to be silent.

"Who?" she breathed, wide-eyed and alarmed for her many friends.

His accent thickened as his disgust grew. "If I knew that for certain do you think we'd be here?"

"Um . . . no. So where are we?"

"This is either an old metal refinery or steel mill. My best guess is that we are somewhere in western Pennsylvania."

Since his best guesses were far more reliable than her hard and true facts, DeeDee did not question. She knew better than to ask him to explain how he figured things out. Instead her mind fixated on the way he pronounced 'Pennsylvania.' Each vowel and syllable was stressed, and somehow it seemed like a much longer and more exotic word when he said it.

"Dexter, why _do_ you talk like that?"

Someone must have commented on his Russian accent to her. Probably one of the Kids Next Door operatives. They were a curious lot in every sense of the word. Unlike Ben Tennyson, who had finally given up trying to figure out his accent and now just let it amuse him, Dexter knew full well the KND's so-called scientists had concluded he had some strange and exotic form of speech impediment. And they wondered why he had no patience with them . . .

He smiled faintly at his sister, feeling a sudden rush of affection for her. She was one of the very few things in this world that he could say was _his_. What DeeDee lacked in sense and intelligence and self control she more than made up for in good humor and enthusiasm. They would need that as much as his brilliance to survive.

"Why don't you?" he countered, letting the subject change. He was certain they were being watched, but he didn't know how closely.

She stared, astonished at the notion. "I don't know how you do it!" she finally responded, breaking into a smile and a small, anxious giggle.

He quietly echoed her laugh, glad for a moment of levity. "Well, neither do I! I've always talked like this!"

"Didn't Mom and Dad ever notice?"

His laughter ended in a snort and he shrugged, never having considered the idea. "If they didn't notice my laboratory underneath their house I sincerely doubt they'd notice that their only son speaks like a refugee from a Siberian gulag, to quote Ben Tennyson."

"A what?"

Patiently he explained, "With a Russian accent."

"Oh." She yawned. "Well, I like the way you talk. Don't stop."

As if he could. He smiled, and then stood up. Stripping off his gloves, he removed his lab coat and held it out to her. "Here. Try to get some sleep."

She hesitated to take it though it was really the only warm article of clothing between them. "Won't you be cold?"

He pulled on the purple gloves again. "No. I will not be sleeping. Pacing will keep me warm enough."

DeeDee gazed at him, dimly understanding his meaning, and finally allowed him to put the coat around her narrow shoulders.

"Thank you," she said with all sincerity, holding it tightly. "Good night, Dexter."

Better able to translate her wish for his success in figuring out their situation, he said with equal sincerity, "Good night, DeeDee."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"DeeDee! DeeDee, wake up! Wake up!"

"Whu?" She raised her head, squinting at the light. It wasn't nearly as bright in here as when they had arrived. "What's happening, Dexter? Is it morning?"

"I don't know," he said, intent on rousing her. "Get up, please."

"Did you sleep?" she wondered, standing tall and gangly on her skinny legs. She stretched like a cat, making a squeaky noise as she yawned. The lab coat was far too short for her, though she was scrawny enough that it actually fit her frame.

"No. Listen to me. Someone is coming and I need you to understand what I'm going to tell you."

"Okay."

He leaned close, almost whispering, and she imitated his stance to hear. "I believe they've captured us for the sake of what I know. Word's reached them that I did a full analysis of Ben's Omnitrix a few days ago. That and the fact that I designed most of the weapons our forces have been using makes me very valuable and dangerous to Fuse."

"Can't they figure that stuff out for themselves?"

Dexter did not lose patience and snap at her as he had been prone to do in the past. He couldn't afford to do that now and the pleasure it had once generated was long gone.

"It's faster, easier, and more accurate if they can get the information out of me. And I doubt Ben would let them within a kilometer of the Omnitrix. It's alien technology unlike anything to be found on Earth or Planet Fusion."

"Well, don't tell them, then!"

"Oh, DeeDee." He huffed a despairing laugh. "I'll try not to, I promise, but they will try to force me to tell what I know. They will . . . probably torture me."

"Torture?" Her blue eyes grew wide and she seized his arm. "Like hurt you or tickle you?"

He pushed his glasses back into place, closing his eyes for a moment. "Uh, hurt would be more my guess."

"But you're just a kid!"

"They won't see me that way. Most of Earth's forces are kids. Fuse sees us as the army that we are. They don't care how old I am. All they'll care about is getting the information they want from me."

"Oh, Dexter!" She slid down the wall, staring up at him, and he crouched down at her side.

"Listen! I cannot, _I will not _let Fuse's scientists find out this information. Our side would be slaughtered."

She was used to missing half of what he said, but his intensity drove her to seek clarification. "What's that mean?"

"Killed without a fight. If they find out all our secrets, we'll lose in a matter of days and Earth will be one more planet devou - I mean _eaten_ by Fusion."

She nodded, following him, her blonde pigtails bobbing. He took her hand in his, and even through his gloves he could tell her fingers were cold.

"DeeDee, they may even hurt _you_ to try to get me to talk."

"Me? They would hurt me? I don't know any of the stuff you do!"

"Yes." Relief that he had gotten through to her filled him, and then a moment later tension replaced it as he soldiered on with what he needed to share with her. "They may hurt you and say they'll stop if I talk. DeeDee, I cannot tell them anything of what they want to know."

Again, she nodded, only this time her mouth was set in a firm line. "I . . . I'm not as smart as you, Dexter, but I think I can be as brave as you. We have to protect our friends."

He blinked at her, tears blurring his vision, and he managed a small, grim smile, grateful for her courage. She smiled back, squeezing his hand tightly. Brilliant and mature as he was, he was still a child filling an adult's role, and Dexter would forever be her baby brother and her favorite person in this strange world. Though they fought like cats and dogs, she loved him dearly, and she knew then and there just how completely that love was returned.

"If they make me cry, just pretend it's not me. And if I cry and you tell them, those tears will be wasted."

He sniffed. She had no idea of what they could do to her. What they would do to him. "I will do everything I can to keep you safe."

"Don't worry about me. And don't worry. Number Five and Mandy and Ben must know we're here. They'll come get us."

"Soon, I hope," he replied quickly, not believing a word of it but willing to put up a facade for her benefit. Suddenly the light panel overhead snapped on. He glanced upwards and winced. "But . . . we will need to buy them time to find us."

That she could grasp, and she nodded eagerly. Suddenly she tensed, listening. "I can hear someone coming."

He swallowed, trying to show the courage of his convictions. Warmth, strength, calm all fled in that terrible moment and he fought to keep his knees from buckling beneath him.

"Take your coat back. It might make you feel better."

He stopped her from shedding the lab coat. "No. You need it. Here." He pulled off his glasses and handed them to her. "Keep these safe for me. Do not lose them."

Without his glasses he looked even younger than his age. Blinking and squinting, he frowned as he tried to focus on her. It was a losing battle. Even DeeDee knew his vision was terrible. Gently she took the glasses, holding his hand for a moment, knowing that this moment was important for them both.

"Dexter?"

"Yes, DeeDee?" he asked, his voice soft so as not to betray the terror building inside him.

She smiled, actually noticing his accent and finding it suddenly endearing. "I'm very glad you're my brother."

He was trembling, but he managed to say, "And you are the perfect sister. I cannot imagine anyone less destroying my laboratory."

"I did that an awful lot, didn't I?"

"It's a talent."

"I -"

She broke off as the door swished opened. Three heavily armed Mechs filled the doorway. The center one pointed its clawed arm at Dexter, and a metallic voice issued forth.

"You. Dexter. You will accompany us. Resist and the female will be killed."

DeeDee gasped. He drew away from her, out of her hold, out of her warmth. Taking in a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders, standing as tall as his small frame would allow, and walked across the cold cell toward the door, a gladiator about to step into the arena.

"Dexter!"

He looked back, incapable of distinguishing if his blurred vision was the result of his appalling eyesight or the threat of tears.

"I understand," DeeDee said in a tone of voice that stirred a glimmer of hope buried deep within him. All he could do in response was nod his head, but it was enough that she understood him as much as the situation.


	3. Days and Nights

**Chapter Three: Days and Nights**

He collapsed on the way back to the cell, one shove too many from the Fusion warrior's clawed hand proving to be too much for him to withstand in his condition. Unable to rise, he was bodily seized and dragged the last hundred feet. Thrust into the cell by the inhuman strength of the Mech, he staggered and fell to his hands and knees again as his sister's alarmed shriek filled the room.

"Dexter!"

She would have tackled him and crushed him in a hug, so glad was she to have him back. He raised his hand, warning her off for the moment as he collected himself, and so instead DeeDee knelt before him. He was glad for her piercing voice, because she sounded perfectly well and even angry on his account. It was a while before he could lift his head, and by then his monstrous escorts were long gone. He squinted up at his sister.

Her gasp told him everything he dared not ask. He had not been beaten, not per se. Nothing so crude just yet. He had been questioned and cajoled and tempted and finally threatened for hours on end before his interrogator had gotten physical. The experience was so far beyond anything he had faced before that the entire incident seemed some strange, surreal nightmare where voices and pain and hunger blurred into an endless stream of consciousness. If he had woken up just then from some delerious fever dream, he would not have been surprised.

Even now it hadn't ended. The room was colder than before, so cold he could just make out the wisps of breath as he panted and shivered and tried to calm himself down. His dark clothing was soaked with sweat and the chill penetrated to the bone, and he shivered.

"What did they do to you?" whispered DeeDee, tears springing to her eyes. She smoothed his red hair out of his eyes with gentle fingers. "You're whiter than your coat."

"I . . . I'm not sure," he rasped faintly, his throat aching and raw from screaming so loud and long. "Some . . . some of it was electrical, I think. At least it felt like all the times I've shocked myself, only worse. Some chemical . . . that . . . I couldn't see very well," he hastily finished, hoping she didn't press for more details. He put a hand to his aching head, sighing in absolute exhaustion. "They . . . they tried to probe my memory. Those devicess are hard to resist, but not impossible. It was all in a laboratory as cold as this room. Only one person spoke the whole time. I don't know if there was anyone else." He dropped his hand and looked up at her again, sensing that he was rambling and forcing himself to stop. "Did they hurt you?"

"No. I'm okay. A Mech brought some food and water before. It's awful, just some old field rations, but I saved you some. Do you want to eat?"

He shook his head, worn out and queasy. "Maybe later."

She leaned close and laid her hand on his pale, cold cheek. "Dexter," she whispered anxiously, "are our friends still safe?"

Nothing other than the knowledge that he had not broken could have brought a smile, however faint, to his lips. DeeDee's eyes grew wide, and she glowed with pride.

"Come on," she said, carefully helping him to stand. "Let's get you warmed up."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

It was DeeDee who remained awake that night, watching over her brother as he slept. She had wrapped him in his lab coat and chafed his aching hands (his gloves were gone) and he made no protest when she pulled him into her lap and did her best to wrap her long limbs around him. Sleep took him almost instantly, and he lay with his head pillowed on her narrow shoulder. DeeDee smiled to herself, remembering a time not terribly long ago when she had first held her newborn baby brother with his shock of blazing hair and bright blue eyes. She adored having a little brother, even one that was quite capable of blowing up the world in the name of science. That he was loyal she had always known, that he should be so strong and daring once removed from his element had been proven in the past, but that he should rely solely on _her_ for help was shocking to DeeDee. In facing a challenge, she had never known him to need anyone.

And right now, even she could see how desperately he needed her to be tough and feisty and to protect him as best she was able. DeeDee had nothing to do the whole time he had been gone except to think. Boredom was a rare experience for her since she was so easily entertained by the least thing, but with a total lack of distractions she was surprised to find herself with little else to do than mull over what Dexter had told her early that morning. It had suddenly occurred to her that this situation was much worse than even she realized, and that Dexter was terribly, completely frightened. He hadn't really shown it, but his gestures, his expressions sang out to her in retrospect. And still he had walked away with those hideous Fusion Mechs, just to keep her safe.

She looked down at his face, at his lips puckered in sleep. In the wane light of the overhead panel he was still very pale. He hadn't spoken much after being dragged back and he couldn't eat. At her nervous insistence he had tried and he had vomited the food right back up. Gently, she reached up and smoothed his red hair, wondering once again what had been done to him in that lab. She could not imagine, but then she was not very imaginative. But neither was she ruthless and cruel and the desire to inflict pain was beyond her experience. It was then that she saw the small, dark burn mark on his temple, barely hidden by his hair. Carefully she probed on the other side of his head and found a similar wound scabbing over. Oh, what had they done to him? Was that how they had tried to probe his memory? She didn't wonder _if_ that had hurt, but how badly.

One of the things she had realized earlier that day was that she and Dexter were absolutely helpless while they were here. She'd never felt this way before and it frightened her, but she found her concern was more for Dexter than for herself. She was only here to be used against him. He was the one they wanted because he was smarter than anyone else in the world.

That thought had led to another, and another, and DeeDee pondered harder than ever before in her life. Gradually she had come to realize that whatever they did to Dexter would not stop until he was dead or they got what they wanted from him. If they got what they wanted . . . then what? They wouldn't be allowed to leave, would they? She didn't think so. And if they killed Dexter, and she was only here because of him, what would happen to her?

A whole series of revelations followed as the sheer enormity of their situation struck her. They had nothing, nothing to work with. They had nothing but each other.

She didn't know if it would be enough.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Dexter! Dexter, wake up! You're having a nightmare! Dexter!"

Blind, pained, he opened his eyes with a loud gasp. For a moment he stared at her, shocked and appalled to wake up in his sister's arms. Then the events of the previous day flooded back and with another gasp he clung tightly to her, burying his face in her shoulder. In that same instant, the lights came on, glaring bright.

"Oh, no!" moaned DeeDee, snatching him close against her. She knew what this meant. "No, no!"

The door opened. Once again there were three towering, heavily armored monsters made of green Fusion matter standing outside and once again the flat, computerized voice commanded:

"You. Dexter. You will accompany us. Resist and the female will be killed."

He drew a shuddering breath, pulling away from her once again. Unsteady on his feet, he shrugged off the lab coat and held it out to her.

"Keep it," she said. It was the nearest thing he had to armor.

"They'll only take it." His voice had not recovered in the brief respite he'd been allowed and he spoke in a harsh whisper.

She knew right now they could not afford to lose a single resource, and she took the coat. "I'll guard your glasses."

He swallowed, nodding, closing his eyes briefly to marshal his defenses as he turned to face their captors. In comparison to yesterday he seemed much smaller, much younger, and the fact that her only brother was about to be subjected to tortured filled DeeDee with a fury she had never known before. She wanted to lash out, to strike back at them for hurting him, but she knew it would be useless. She did not possess sufficient strength. That was not to say she was not strong. In her own way DeeDee had matured more in the past three days than in all the years of her life.

"Dexter!" she called after him, her expression blazing fiercely. She was angry beyond caring if they hurt her or not.

Once again he paused, turning to face her. His movements were stiff and slow.

"They're nothing but a bunch of chickens."

He stared at her speechlessly, and then his mouth quirked in the swiftest of smiles. She knew in that instant that had been the exact right thing to say.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He did not walk back under his own power that day. Not one step.

Dragged back by the arm, the mech threw Dexter bodily into the cell. He landed with a small grunt of pain and remained still, helpless to rise. DeeDee hurried to his side and glared at the robot until it withdrew with its fellows. Then she leaned over her brother, afraid to see what he had withstood.

There was blood on his mouth, by his nose and eyes and ears, too. Even around his fingernails was encrusted with dried blood. She did not know what to say or think or do to make it better. Stunned into inaction, she stared, shaking her head in disbelief. When a hoarse noise gurgled in his throat she was yanked back to the grim reality of the situation. He was depending upon her. She was all he had. Almost tripping over he own feet, she hastened to fetch some water from the stuff that had been brought today. As gently as she could she lifted his head, holding the cup for him. He coughed on a mouthful, turning the water pink with blood. Wetting a corner of the lab coat, she tried her best to wipe up the blood. He hissed and drew back when she tried to clean his fingers and she immediately stopped. He didn't need her hurting him as well.

"Dexter," she whispered, "are our friends still safe?"

There was an alarmingly long pause, and then he faintly said, "I think so."

"Then that means they'll come for us. I know they're looking. It won't be much longer."

He didn't say anything, just let his breath out in a rattling sigh and leaned into her embrace. In moments he was limp in her arms, his breaths deepening. She would have liked to think he was asleep, but even DeeDee knew he had passed out.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"You monsters! Leave him alone! He can't walk!" She was on her feet in a heartbeat, putting herself between the inevitable three Mechs menacing her from the doorway and her brother. "Go away!" She stamped her foot, and the nearest machine swung its huge, clawed arm at her. It caught her in the mid-section, brushing her aside and knocking the wind out of her as she spilled to the ground.

"No! DeeDee! Don't! Please . . . don't."

She froze, gulping for air. His voice was hoarse and weak, but he still commanded. DeeDee turned to face him. Wretched, pale, with traces of dried blood marking his face and hands, Dexter shook his head at her attempt to save him another day of torment. It was pointless for both of them to be hurt. He doubted he would be able to feel most of what they did to him today. He hoped.

"Don't waste these tears," he rasped, dragging himself upright. He wavered, pale in his dark clothes.

"But . . ."

"They won't kill me until they have what they want."

"Don't give them anything, Dexter!"


	4. Past and Present

**Chapter Four: **_**Past**_** and Present**

"How much easier it would be if you'd simply tell me what I want to know."

Dexter raised his eyes, too weary to lift his head.

"Easy for whom?" His teeth were chattering with cold, and he wanted very much to curl into a tight ball and go to sleep and then wake to find this was all some horrible nightmare.

"Both of us."

"Not for me. Besides," he rasped, "if I hate being around someone smarter than me, how much worse it must be for _you_."

"You're right, of course."

"Of course," he muttered.

"The Omnitrix."

"What of it?"

"Tell me everything you know about it."

Dexter sighed, sick of this, sickened by it. Every inch of him ached with a low, throbbing pain. His resistance was eroding. "Find out for yourself."

"If I could, I would, believe me."

"I do. But I wouldn't tell you even if I did know anything about it."

"I know."

He saw his interrogator's hand hover over the controls. One touch of a button and he would be plunged from a world of pain into a world of agony. Again. He closed his eyes wearily, resting his head on the wall behind him. It was better not to see it coming.

"You did an analysis of the Omnitrix five days ago."

"I did no such thing. Do you think I would run the risk of that technology falling into Fuse's hands?"

"Liar. You're exactly like me. You wouldn't be able to resist. Knowledge has always been more important to you than safety."

"I am nothing like you. I would never torture anyone."

"Except yourself, hmm? Then perhaps I'm just not afraid to act upon the most suitable course of action and you are. Are you afraid, Dexter?"

"Of course I am. That is a very stupid question."

"What are you afraid of?"

"If you know me so well, you already know the answer to that."

"Ignorance, then. I don't fear ignorance. I despise it."

"Especially in yourself."

"You hold the information I seek in your memory. Tell me, Dexter, or I'll search it out myself."

He opened his eyes just to glare at the shadowy, blurred figure on the other side of the glass. Mustering all the contempt he felt for his captor, Dexter spat,

"Happy hunting."

And the world, his world, his mind exploded in fire and torment.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Dexter! Hey, Dex! Wait up!"_

_At the first call he paused, and then turned, balancing his tray of food. Ben Tennyson was weaving toward him through the crush of hungry fighters and workers filling the canteen in their headquarters. Dexter smiled in greeting, for it had been a long while since he had seen his friend. Ben spent most of his time on the front lines of this war while Dexter was lucky if he saw anything more than his laboratory, his rooms, and the hall between the two locations on a weekly basis._

"_Ben!"_

"_Long time no see, pal. You eating in here?" asked Ben, gesturing at the dining hall._

"_I will now."_

"_Good. C'mon, I gotta talk to you."_

_He led the way to an empty table in the corner since with his greater height he could see over the crowd whereas Dexter didn't stand a chance unless he stood on a chair. People hurried out of their way and whispers and long stares followed in their wake. Ben, a little more self-conscious than the boy genius behind him, called out a few greetings to people he recognized. Dexter, who was rarely seen outside of his laboratory, had long ago learned to ignore the comments and sneers of others that took exception to his intelligence and mannerisms, and so did not notice the respect and admiration the Earth's forces afforded him. That he could be so animated astonished them, because the few people that interacted with him only saw him in his home element - the vast laboratory reaching deep into the earth beneath their headquarters - and only saw the cool, arrogant, high-strung genius that they depended upon for weapons and defenses. A smiling, chatting, good-humored Dexter was a novelty._

"_So how you been?" asked Ben eagerly, dropping into a chair. They were seated a little away from most of the people in the dining hall, though it was filling up quickly._

_Dexter sat opposite him. "Very busy. And you?"_

"_Very busy, to put it mildly."_

"_You were at Endsville, yes? In Anytown?"_

_Tennyson dug into his mashed potatoes with gusto. "Yeah. Whew." He shook his head, talking as he ate. "Heavy fighting. It was pretty close."_

"_Mandy must have been pleased at least part of her home town was retaken."_

"_Huh._ _Don't bet on it. This is Mandy we're talking about, kiddo. But hey!" He changed the topic before Dexter could glower at being called 'kiddo.' Ben was a mere three years older, but far more worldly in his experiences. "Those plasma mines you came up with were awesome. They really did the trick. They reduced those Fusion mechs to goo."_

"_I should hope," Dexter replied, poking at his salad. "If only Professor Utonium and I could find a way to permanently destabilize that _goo_."_

_He spoke the last word as if he'd never uttered it before and was trying it on for size. Ben smiled fondly, as much at his friend's reaction as his accent. The fact that Dexter had a Russian accent but could not speak the language amused Ben Tennyson no end. That accent, which rendered some words so distorted as to be unrecognizable, got thicker when he got angry, as Ben well knew. Midway through their lunch he decided it was time to start working Dexter up a bit. That's what friends were for, after all, and it was healthy for him._

"_What brings you back here?" Dexter asked, conversationally. He looked at his plate and made a little sound of disgust, leaning his chin on his hand as he ate. "Certainly not the food."_

"_Orders. What Mandy wants, Mandy gets, so, here I be. I've got a new mission," he said. He didn't offer any details and Dexter didn't ask for any, well aware his friend was not in a position to elaborate. Ben leaned across the table a bit, frowning. "What_ is _that, Dex? Are you eating rabbit food?"_

_The younger boy sighed, failing to cotton on to the fact that the teasing had commenced. "It's the closest thing to vegetables besides French fries, pickles, and catsup that the Kids Next Door will serve."_

"_The Kids don't like vegetables."_

"_Well, I do."_

_Ben knew full well the only reason Dexter liked vegetables was the fallout of one of his endless experiments. It was hard to say if the experiment was a success or not, seeing as how the very thing he wanted most to eat was the last thing on earth the cooks here at headquarters would ever imagine serving, namely broccoli. To date no one had been able to convey to this self-acclaimed super genius that experimenting on yourself was not always the wisest course of action. Dexter was too curious, too impatient, and too brash for his own good, and flashes of genius did not automatically preclude one from flashes of stupidity._

"_Well, you're a freak."_

"_So you keep informing me," the boy scientist said without taking offense. Ben was one of the very few people here that was not intimidated by Dexter's brilliant mind and one of just a tiny handful of people that simply regarded him as a peer. For Dexter, it was as refreshing as rain in the desert to be treated like a normal child and to be given a chance to act his age. Tennyson did not expect a constant flow of glowing wit and intelligence out of him like most people did - he just expected Dexter to be himself. The younger boy welcomed the inevitable teasing and did his best to return it, and Ben didn't care if he understood what Dexter was going on about, so long as Dexter was dishing something out at him. Actually, the more technical it was, the less sense it made to Ben and the more it amused him. Unlike the mean-spirited abuse Dexter had endured in his grade school, Ben taunted him only to get him to loosen up, relax, and have some fun. For these reasons and more, Ben Tennyson was the top name on Dexter's very short list of friends._

"_So we agree. You're a freak." He saluted with his soda._

"_No, we don't agree. You are more of a freak than I could ever hope to be. _I _am at least genetically stable. _You_ mutate into aliens."_

"_At least when I mutate myself it's on purpose. What's your excuse? Science gone bad?"_

"_No," Dexter replied, almost laughing, "DeeDee."_

"_I'm telling her that."_

_He rolled his eyes. "Go ahead. She'll forget it in a minute."_

_Ben laughed, trying to use the momentum he'd built. "So when's the last time you were outside?"_

"_I have no idea _and don't start_," Dexter snapped, pointing his fork at his companion. "You were there. You know better."_

"_You stay indoors much more, shortie, you're going to get rickets."_

"_Hardly. Every time I do manage to step foot out the door the Fusion Power Puff Girls attack."_

_Ben grinned even though the situation was deadly serious. Dexter was right - he could not move about freely since Fuse had targeted him as the primary threat to the alien invasion. At least one of the Fusion dopplegangers was always in the area in case the opportunity for assassination arose. One of Mandy's first moves upon taking over command of Earth's Forces was a standing arrest order for Dexter if he tried wandering around outside of their headquarters building. The resulting explosion had been of epic proportions. Ben would never forget the sight of Dexter, surrounded by a ring of heavily armed KND security guards preventing him from stepping out of the front entrance, letting out a furious scream of, "You can't do this!" and Mandy's mono-tone reply of, "I just did." It had been the start of beautiful working relationship._

_Ben tried for a new angle to rile his friend._ "_Maybe the Fusion Girls just think you science geeks are irresistible. Ever think of that?"_

_Dexter, well aware of what he perceived as his own physical shortcomings, actually blushed and he snorted at the notion. "They're welcome to Mandark, then."_

"_Naa. My sources tell me that shorts-and-suspenders combo is a big chick turn-off."_

_Another snort, and Dexter almost choked on his juice. Ben chuckled as the younger boy struggled for enough breath to laugh._

_The room was becoming more crowded and the tables close by were filling up with soldiers, workers, medics, support staff, and all the peoples that had united to fight the invasion by Planet Fusion. Ben looked through the strange mass of people, animals, the occasional demon, and a few other sundry beings that were at least as weird as the alien zoo he carried in the Omnitrix. They were all from such divergent backgrounds, and yet in the face of their enemy, united._

_Or so he would have liked to believe. Mandy had recalled him from the field for a reason and it certainly wasn't because she missed him. Ben knew full well she must be convinced of the ugly truth if she yanked him out of the fight and dumped him in headquarters with no other assignment than to keep an eye on the red-headed, four-eyed, undersized rocket scientist stabbing at an innocent salad across the table from him. That same rocket scientist was, not surprisingly, the one to have figured it out._

_There was a spy for Fusion here in their headquarters._

_They should not have lost Townsville three weeks ago. Plain and simple, they should not have lost. For once they had the upper hand on Fuse - better weapons, more troops, better information, and yet they had been sent packing with heavy losses, their confidence shaken, and one rampaging and two devastated Power Puff Girls as Townsville was reduced to an Infected Zone. The Fusions had known their plans, their tactics, their weapons, and had countered them at every turn. From what Ben had been told by Mandy when he arrived early that morning, Dexter had been enraged by the defeat. Earth's Forces hadn't even gotten the chance to deploy the new weapons system he'd designed and Dexter had taken the loss personally._

_On the surface it didn't seem like too important a detail since he wasn't alone in his anger, but the commanders of Earth's forces had already learned that a furious Dexter was also a ruthlessly determined Dexter and despite their efforts to rein him in, he had run himself into the ground the past few weeks trying to figure out how they had been betrayed and by whom. He had told Mandy his suspicions and, Mandy being smart enough to listen, had acted immediately. The next thing Ben knew, he was out of the line of fire and getting greasy fingers from eating fried chicken across from his friend the mad scientist._

"_So how's the Megabot coming along?" he asked as the next table filled up with a pack of creatures that made the aliens in his Omnitrix look positively tame. There was a cross between a palm tree and a bird, a gigantic purple hairy thing with horns, and a tall, scarred red thing that looked as if it was made from pipe cleaners. They were led by a short, bossy blue blob that gaped at Ben and Dexter before claiming the chair with the best view in order to gape some more at the nearest thing this war had to celebrities._

_Tennyson been told they were refugee Imaginary Friends from some sort of foster home. They seemed a decent lot, but to Ben they were just plain bizarre. Like the few survivors of the Camp Kidney Massacre, the Imaginary Friends were traumatized by the loss of their home and friends. They had only been here a few weeks and Ben made a mental note to find out a lot more about them after he saw Dexter to the safety of his lab. There was no point in asking Dexter about them. Ben doubted his friend had even seen them before this moment. He was as far removed from the normal goings-on at headquarters as it was physically possible to be, and seeing as how he related to mathematics better than people, he was practically useless when it came to being social._

_"The X-P 4000 Bravo?" Dexter dropped his voice, trying to hide the annoyance he automatically experienced at the thought of what had happened to his latest masterpiece and at the sheer rudeness of the staring blue blob. "Billy put me a few weeks behind schedule when he wrecked the neo-neurotomic proto core, but the prototype is done. Would you like to see?"_

_He asked almost warily, as if he expected to meet with refusal. Few people were comfortable in his laboratory and those that were, were far too comfortable, namely DeeDee and Billy._

"_Yes! Are you kidding? I want to try it! Are the weapons systems up? _After_ you finish your rabbit chow, pal," he added when Dexter started to rise. Ben was certain Dexter wasn't eating properly and since he was here and had been appointed baby sitter, he was determined to do what he could to change that. He was no expert, but it wasn't unreasonable that a kid Dexter's age should be eating a bit more than salad for lunch. No wonder he was s'darn short._

_The younger boy dropped back into his chair and began impaling leafy greens again. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"_

"_Oh. This." He shoved up his sleeve, turning his arm to display the Omnitrix. "It's glitchy."_

_Ever eager to get his hands on the Omnitrix to find out what made the alien technology function, Dexter dropped his fork and seized Ben's wrist in an iron grip. He all but yanked the older boy across the table to get a better look at the device. "Glitchy. This is a technical term?"_

"_Yeah. Like _goo_," said Ben, trying not to land in his mashed potatoes and doing his best imitation of a Russian accent._

"_I will have to run a full analysis on it."_

"_Yeah, okay. Whatever you need to do. Maybe you can tell me better how it works. It keeps changing as I get older."_

_He knew full well that unobstructed access to the Omnitrix was the Holy Grail of the mechanical whiz-kid circuit. Mandark would be suicidal to know his arch rival actually had his paws on it at the moment. At the sight of Dexter's greedy excitement, Tennyson laughed._

"_Christmas just came early, huh?"_

_Dexter grinned. "Much better than Christmas."_

"_Santa never got you that train set?"_

"_No, I did get a train set. I never got the acetylene torch I asked for."_

_Ben chuckled, shaking his head. "Only you."_

_The boy across the table shrugged. "I don't know what my parents were worried about. I could weld before I could ride a bike. We're done," announced Dexter, abruptly releasing his wrist. "Down to my laboratory. Now!"_

_He took his plate of pie with him and started eating as they walked. "Your what?"_

"_My laboratory."_

"_Your what?"_

"_My labor - oh, shut up, Tennyson!" he ordered, giving his friend a shove._

_But they were both laughing as they left._

A scream rang out, hoarse and gutteral, amplified by the close walls of the chamber, and at that moment Dexter forcibly asserted his own will again, regaining control of his mind and memories and the torture session. Gasping, crying, he clawed at the probes burning his flesh, yanking free.

The only other person in the room was not displeased with the results. He was getting closer as Dexter was getting weaker. Another day or so and he would have everything he wanted. With a faint smirk at his pending success, he pressed a button, restoring atmophere levels in the pressurized glass chamber housing his victim. Dexter gasped in pain, instinctively trying to stem the resulting nosebleed as he collapsed against the wall.

"Take him back," ordered the interrogator to the waiting Mechs. "And drop the temperature in their cell another two degrees."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Dexter? Dexter? Can you hear me? Please answer. Please wake up. Don't leave me here. Dexter! Pleeeeease. Please wake up. That's it! Stay with me. Dexter, are our friends still safe?"

"I . . . don't know."


	5. Beauty and Beast

**Chapter Five: Beauty and Beast**

Overwhelmed at last, Dexter surrendered to his emotions. DeeDee held him in her lap as he quietly cried against her shoulder, finally, for a moment, acting his age. It was more than he could bear and yet, for her sake, he would endure. He just needed to give in and be weak to regain his control, and so he poured out the fear and pain and despair gripping him.

After what seemed like hours to DeeDee, his sobbing subsided into rough, hiccupping gasps that wracked his body and made him groan and shiver. Gradually he calmed down as the pain of the day faded and once again he fell asleep in her arms. DeeDee just held her brother tightly, wrapping the lab coat around him as she tried to keep him warm and comfortable. She rocked back and forth, remembering how that simple motion had gone so far to soothe him as a baby.

How much longer? How much longer? When would they get here? How much more could he take? DeeDee's faith in their friends was absolute, but if they weren't rescued soon there wouldn't be anything of Dexter left to rescue. He hadn't been able to eat much. His bleeding gums were too painful even to sup the watered-down paste she'd made from cereal she'd found in the field rations, and his throat was so raw from screaming that he could barely swallow.

She had thought she couldn't have been more frightened to see Dexter return all bloodied the day before, but she had been wrong. Seeing him so cold, so pale, as if he was already dead, had almost sent her into a panic. Only his need for her help had kept her from screaming. That, she supposed, was bravery, though she didn't feel particularly brave. She could not compare to her brother. How he was still managing to hold on she could not begin to guess, but she knew full well that he was doing so for her sake. Because of that, she would not, could not fail him.

The door opening startled her. Usually the lights came on for a few minutes first to announce the arrival of the Mechs and to let their fears and imaginations run rampant. Still clutching the sleeping boy in her arms, determined not to give him up, DeeDee twisted around to see who or what was there.

Her hopes of a rescue were dashed at the sight of a lone figure, small and slight, standing in the doorway. The person stood back in the shadows, but with a familiar gesture they motioned for her to join them.

Gently she lowered Dexter to the floor, smoothing his hair a final time before stepping away. With dread in her heart she stepped out of the cell and into the darkness beyond. The hall was as she remembered it, industrial and dank and positively warm compared to their cell. As soon as she stepped past the door it closed again, sealing Dexter in. Did they mean to do to her what they had done to him? He still hadn't told her what their captor had did, she could only guess from the damage done to him. Strangely, though, she did not feel threatened. Perhaps it was the absence of the Fusion Mechs. Perhaps because the figure was the same size and build as her brother.

Her brother. She gasped as the figure moved close enough for her to recognize the face. This was his Fusion, his doppleganger. One of his dopplegangers. From what Number One had once told her, there had been many copies of her brother made and discarded by Fuse. Green-skinned, red-eyed, he was a nightmare come to being. She could not say he was alive. She didn't know what he was besides unnatural, an evil reflection of Dexter, and she drew away from him.

"I do not intend to hurt you," he said.

The voice was deep and rough and had an echoing quality to it, as if the Fusion was speaking from the bottom of a well. It nothing like her brother's unbroken tones, and his Russian accent took on a sinister sound.

"You can talk! I didn't think you Fusion ur-things could!" she finished lamely, not sure of what to call this imitation brother.

There were many names for these strange and powerful beings. They differed vastly from the Mechs in their size and intelligence and capacity for independent reasoning. Most people fighting for the Earth called them Fusions or dopplegangers. Samurai Jack had called them Oni Demons. The Kids Next Door called them by negative numbers. She remembered Grim calling them all 'cheap wanna-be undead zombies.' Dexter simply called them Ur-creatures (and by default DeeDee did as well). They had been made as exaggerated and warped versions of some of Earth's greatest fighters, with similar powers but vastly different emotions. It had become something of a mark of distinction to have a Fusion counterpart. DeeDee knew of more than a few people who had claimed to have seen Fusion version of themselves when in fact they were a rarity and reserved for a select few. She certainly hoped that she never saw a slime-green ur-version of herself running around. She looked awful in green.

And what had Dexter said the first time he had been brought him back from the lab? Only one person had spoken . . . Dexter's own, evil opposite was the one doing all these terrible things to him! She stared, horrified and revolted.

"Most can't. I'm not like most of my kind. I've been made and remade over and over again, each time a little closer to perfection."

"Closer to Dexter, you mean," she defended. "What do you want?"

"I want to end this," the Ur-Dexter replied. His hands, covered with green gloves, balled into tight fists before he pointed at the door behind her. "That one in there is very stubborn. If he does not give me the information I seek, I will kill him to keep your side from benefitting from his creative genius."

She took fierce pride that her brother had frustrated their enemy so completely. "Well, why am I here?"

"To control him."

"So what do you want?"

The red eyes narrowed. If some deep and dark fire had burned away all the goodness and love in Dexter, leaving nothing but a blackened shell of what he had been, then this was exactly what he would have looked like: intense, wicked, interested only in expanding his knowledge regardless of the cost to others. He reached out, forcibly turning her head so as to look at her face full on. Even in that simple, brief touch DeeDee could feel his immense strength. It was frightening in something so familiar. His gloves were clammy and he smelt of the muck Fusion spread to infect territory and create fighting machines. His lab coat, an exact copy of the one her brother wore, was the color of blood.

"You are a pretty thing," the Ur-Dexter sneered, "but you are as stupid as he said."

She jerked away from his touch, lifting her chin in defiance and tossing her hair back in the same motion. She felt something, something strong and furious, and she realized it had to be hatred for this . . . _ur_-_thing_ that looked and tried to sound like her brother. "He didn't say that. Not to _you_. If Dexter was going to say something like that about me, he's brave enough to say it to my face. He _has_ said it to my face, as a matter of fact." Her eyes narrowed sharply. "I'm _not_ stupid. I'm just not as smart as my brother. No one is. Not any of the Kids Next Door, not Mandy, not Fuse, not _you_." She spat the last word as if it tasted like spinach.

As if she had offended him, the Fusion drew himself up sharply. "I am a replica of him. A perfect copy."

"Well, no, I'd say that you're a cheap one. If you're so perfect why do you have to torture my brother for information? Why don't you know it all already like he does?"

He cast her a venomous look, his red eyes penetrating and betraying his ire. She felt a stirring of pride to have pricked him so. His control was not complete after all.

"Mandy has kept him too safe. We have not been able to update our data on him since this conflict began. I was created before he had a chance to study the Omnitrix and before he perfected the Megabot X-P 4000 Bravo."

"So much for perfect!" was her bubbly rejoinder.

He ignored her gushing. "The Megabot is unimportant. It's just another machine for us to learn and destroy. It's the Omnitrix that I want. Imagine, if you can, legion upon legion of alien fighters, all serving Fusion. Earth would fall in a week and with such power nothing in the universe could stand against us."

"Well, what I can imagine is you taking your rotten planet and going away right now. Earth won't fall. Planet Fusion will."

Her bravado had no effect on him. He was not human, after all, for all he looked like a dark and twisted version of her brother. He returned to the subject at hand.

"Conventional means of persuasion and physical pain have not worked on Dexter yet, but he cannot resist much longer and with his will broken I will be able to probe his memory freely. It's no longer a question of _if_, but _when_. I _will_ get this information from him, DeeDee. If not, by this time tomorrow he will be dead. And where will that leave you, sister?"

"I'm not your sister. And I'll be with my _brother_."

He snorted, his gravelly accent so harsh on her ears when compared to her brother's good-natured lilt as he said, "Oh? Do you really think I'd let my 'sister' die?" The underlying threat was plain, and his thin lips curled into a sneer.

"I'm not your sister. And if you're a copy of my brother Dexter, then you know how many times I've wrecked his work. What makes you think I won't do the same thing to you, pal?"

He barked a laugh. It was a wicked sound, and if she had not been so very furious she would have backed away.

"What makes you think you'll get the chance?"

"Dexter thought he could keep me out, too."

"If you want him to live, you will persuade him to submit to the mind probe. The pain will be minimal if he does not fight it. I want his memories, not his life. Given the choice I would sooner have him live long enough to see your side defeated. He has caused us a great deal of difficulty in our plans. I am very close to getting past his defenses. He has been strong, stronger than even I expected, but his strength has been used up. He cannot succeed against me."

She shook her head. A large portion of Dexter's vocabulary was beyond her ken, but she was quite the expert at piecing together his meaning from the entirety of his sentences and his expressions. She found it was much the same with this ersatz copy. "My brother won't lose to you. You're a liar. A liar and he's not! You're going to kill him anyway, aren't you, so why should he tell you? And why would I help you hurt him more?"

The Ur-Dexter frowned, his red eyes filled with something akin to anger.

"Perhaps you are not so stupid after all. Persuade him to cooperate and I will cease torturing him."

"Right." She planted her fists on her narrow hips. "Like that will fix anything you've already done to him?"

"It will make his death easier."

"For you, maybe." She snorted, losing all interest in the conversation as she mounted her high horse. "Why should it be easy? Let me back in there. I want to be with Dexter, not you."

"Say your farewells, then. You will not see him again after tomorrow."

"Says you," muttered DeeDee as he opened the door and she strode back into her cell with all the dignity of a princess.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

In her absence, Dexter had roused. He grouped about blindly, searching for DeeDee, trying to call out but able only to produce a faint creaking noise from his ruined throat. He was frightened, but for her alone. He was well beyond caring what happened to himself.

"Dee?"

"I'm right here," she said comfortingly, dropping down beside him. "I'm right here, Dexter. I just stepped away for a minute. Don't try to talk." As she spoke she pulled him back into her lap. He felt fragile, as if the life in him was evaporating even as she held him.

True to form, he ignored her, struggling to form each word. "T'morrow . . . he will win."

She wondered if he could have overheard their conversation. She didn't think so, because whatever the Ur-Dexter had done had affected his hearing. "No. Don't talk like that. Just don't talk."

He rasped a low, painful sound that was close to a laugh. "Doesn't matter. I can't . . ."

"Shh." She curled herself around him and put her lips close to his ear so he could catch her worlds clearly. "They'll come for us. I know they will. You just have to hold on a little longer."

"Glasses?"

"I have them right here. I kept them in my pocket. Do you want them?"

"No. Just keep them. Keep them safe."

"O-Okay."

He leaned into her again and she held him tenderly, stroking his hair until he lapsed back into sleep. She was glad he couldn't see the tears she silently shed at the sight of him so defeated.


	6. Wrack and Ruin

**Chapter Six: Wrack and Ruin**

Without the lab coat covering her she felt even colder than before. She wished she had it, but she knew Dexter needed the coat more than she did today. She had left it on him, buttoned up to his chin, when the inevitable Fusion Mechs had hauled him away. He had been too dazed and pained to notice it or to offer any protest. She could feel his glasses in her pocket, pressing against her side as she wrapped her arms tightly around her knees. Lowering her head, DeeDee tried hard not to think of what was happening to her brother right now. The Ur-Dexter had said she'd never see him again. What if he was right?

She could not begin to imagine her life without Dexter in it.

What would she do?

Pressing her forehead against her knees, she began to sob for the first time since they had been snatched from the laboratory. Dexter was right. Fuse's monster had won.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

She might have slept. She couldn't tell. If not sleep, then she fell into a sort of hazy, numb trance that brought no rest or comfort. Finally DeeDee found herself staring into empty space, clutching her brother's eye glasses in her cold hands. She had never felt this way before and she did not recognize her state as despair. She had no prior experience with the emotion, nor did she recognize the fact that she was suffering from exposure to endless hours in the cold.

A sound rose in her throat, a high-pitched whimper that she was helpless to stop. The ache in her chest was a physical pain as she dwelt on the possibility that her brother was gone forever. There was no thought to her own fate. She had not reached that point in her grief. There was just a hideous weight pressing down upon her that was heavy enough to break her heart as she realized all she had left of her brilliant and annoying little brother was the black-framed glasses clutched in her fingers.

Lost in her dismay, she did not stir as a faint rumble reached her through the floor, more a feeling than a sound, similar to what she had felt as she danced in Dexter's lab. The Fusion Mechs were coming for her. Too numb to care, she just stared into the distance, seeing nothing.

But the ugly green monsters never came. Voices rose up outside in the hall, muffled, high-pitched, and excited, and suddenly someone was pounding on the door.

"Dexter! Dexter! It's us! Dee! You in there? Answer!"

DeeDee blinked, recognizing that voice. She raised her tear-streaked face from her knees.

"Dexter! We're coming in!"

"Number Five?" she squeaked. "Number Five!"

There was a commanding shout of "Quiet!" and then, "Dee? That you?"

"Yes! Get me out of here!"

"Back away from the door!"

She scrambled out of the way, her stiff limbs clumsy as she ducked off to the side. There was a crack and a shower of sparks and with a rumble of protest the door slid partially open. Half a dozen small hands laid hold of it and heaved, widening the open enough for the leggy KND to slide into the cell. Number Five was dressed for combat and carried a gun as long as her arm in one hand a small computerized tracking device in the other.

"Dee! Where's - oh, crud!"

She stared at the glasses clutched in DeeDee's hand with horror, her head snapping up from the tracker's screen.

"_Where is he?" _

DeeDee shook her head tearfully. She would have given anything to be able to answer. "I don't know. They took him to a lab. Hurry! The Fusion Dexter is here and he's going to kill him!"

The Kid Next Door was already talking into her communicator. "They've been split up! I've got Dee, she's got the glasses. She says Dex is in a lab. Check for high power readings and look out for his evil twin! Ben, you copy?"

From the communicator on her wrist came the steady, determined voice of Ben Tennyson.

"_I'm on it!"_

"Come on, girl, we gotta get you outta here," ordered Number Five. She looked to the other KND operatives waiting in the hall. "Move out!"

A hundred yards down the corridor Number Five abruptly stopped and the cluster of young commandos followed suit. There was a door identical to the cell that had held DeeDee. She looked to the stunned girl.

"Dee, anyone else held prisoner here you know of?"

DeeDee mutely shook her head.

Number Five made a snap decision. She motioned to her commando team.

"Git it open!"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He was adjusting the dial on the Omnitrix as he ran, full speed, down the halls of the complex. Ben knew exactly what he needed right now: speed, and lots of it.

_"Jetray!"_

He slapped the control atop the wide cuff on his wrist and instantly the transformation into the Aerophibian began. Energy swept over and through him, blending with his own body at a molecular level and changing his form, his senses, his very being . . .

And then he was flying at blinding speed through the ruined factory, searching so quickly that he looked like an orange blur. A great cloud of dust was stirred up as Jetray, a winged, tailed being like a humanoid manta ray, picked up speed. In seconds he had searched half of the sprawling complex, his speed increasing as his anxiety for his friend grew. His thoughts clicked even swifter than he flew.

Lab. Evil twin. Dexter, the biggest prize of them all after planet Earth.

He had to go deeper.

If only they had known. If only they had moved faster. If only DeeDee had not been in the lab . . . but then, if she hadn't been, this wouldn't have happened. Their capture had been a simple matter of time. The Fusion, the Ur-Dexter had wanted them both after all.

And the Fusion's spy had delivered.

Deeper. Deeper. These levels were darker, but darkness was nothing to this form.

Dexter had known all along what would happen to him at enemy hands. By making DeeDee custodian of his glasses, he had ensured her hope of survival at the risk of his own.

It turned out that they weren't just glasses.

Dexter had managed once again to prove exactly how smart he really was.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_Within ten minutes of every alarm in their headquarters going off, they determined that the attack was completely localized on Dexter's laboratory. Ben, who had been closer to the command center than the lab, hurried up to the war room to find Mandy in her element. _

_"What's going on?" he demanded._

_She spared him a glance and a brief explanation. "Something happened in Dexter's lab. He's sealed it off."_

_"Meltdown?" wondered Ben, knowing full well his friend had an unhealthy regard for uranium compounds._

_"No." She jabbed a button on the intercom, talking all the while as lights flashed and alarms blared. "Slinkman, kill those alarms. Mrs. Warthog, rescue and fire teams to the bottom level. Evacuate all non-essential personnel from the lab to the ground floor, keep everyone on high alert." She looked at Ben. "It's the invasion protocol. Something got in."_

_"How?" he demanded. He knew that the lab was built into solid bedrock._

_"No idea yet."_

_"Who else is down there?"_

_"We think DeeDee. She's signed in and we can't account for her."_

_Twenty minutes later he stood with Mandy outside the sealed laboratory as she entered her command codes into the key pad. It was a long process, given the multiple layers of security Dexter had built into the system, and the sound of the keys was all that could be heard. Ranged throughout the hall were some ground troops, a KND firefighting squad, medics, and all three Powerpuff Girls. Ben, as Swampfire, was poised to snatch Mandy out of harm's way if the need arose, and the trio of hovering girls was ready to leap to the attack if anything was waiting in ambush beyond the blast doors. The anxiety levels were palpable, though the only signs of this were the occasional shuffling of feet and flexing of grips on guns and equipment._

_She entered the last number and with an ear-piercing squeal the steel doors slid apart at different angles. Layer after layer of metal opened before them until the last three doors got stuck, leaving a diamond-shaped opening about a yard wide. They waited. All was silent and dark through the hole and there came a smell of Fusion Matter and smoke._

_Buttercup moved forward, glowing with pent-up energy and spoiling for action. "I got this one."_

_She flew directly into the lab, a streak of green fire, and instantly her sisters followed, loath to be parted. It seemed much longer than it actually was, but within a minute or two Bubbles returned._

_"It looks empty as far as we can tell," she reported. _

_"Any sign of Dexter or DeeDee?" asked Number One._

_"No, but the whole lab is really, really wrecked. The whole space in the middle is completely buried."_

_Number One motioned Mandy to stay put. "Right. We'll help make sure it's safe. Kids Next Door, with me."_

_"Hurry it up," ordered Mandy as Number One drew his gun. Quickly and lightly (with the exception of Number Two, who opted to go last and pitched through head first) the elite team jumped through the small opening. Presently Number Three came back, her face split by a wide grin. _

_"Hey there! It's okay. Bubbles was right! This place is a _mess_!"_

_Ben followed Mandy through, and once there he shed the alien form and returned to his normal self. He let out a low whistle. By the faint light spilling in from the hall, he could tell the lab had been trashed. Dexter would be beside himself if he knew._

_The leader of Earth's Forces frowned, quietly furious at what this setback would do to her strategy for winning this war. She looked to Number One._

_"Get crews down here immediately. I need to know what got in here and how and I need to reach Dexter's main work station to lift the invasion protocol."_

_"What if it's destroyed?" wondered the KND chief._

_"This is Dexter, Nigel."_

_"Right. We're on it. All right, everyone, you heard the boss! Let's get moving!"_

_"Mandy!" Ben called as she turned to climb back out the blast doors. He caught her arm, leaning close. "We need to _talk_."_

_She gave him a long, hard look, and then nodded. "My office. Now."_

_It was a solid day - a day of endless worry, little sleep, and frayed nerves - before enough refuse was removed from the lab to allow them to find what Mandy needed to lift the invasion protocol lockdown and free Computress. The crews worked non-stop, to clear away metal and equipment and chemicals and items no one could identify. They found scores of weapon prototypes that had to be categorized and secured, explosive ordinance of all sizes and shapes, and things they knew were weapons but dared not touch for fear of activation. Search teams looked for Dexter and DeeDee without success, though they scored through the place with sensors and infra-red detectors. _

_Finally she got the call from Number Two that they had reached the center of the lab and Dexter's primary work station. Mandy was there within minutes, striding through the blast doors the Powerpuff Girls had wrenched open by brute strength. Ben followed a few steps her behind as she tried to see by the harsh beams of portable lighting. Dexter's work station – a surprisingly small space given the amount of work produced – was as heavily damaged as the rest of the lab. Undeterred, Mandy demanded and received a screwdriver, which she used to pry open a dented panel. She ignored Number One's little gasp of surprise as she removed an electronic key from a chain around her neck and inserted it into a port exposed beneath the panel. She laid her hand on a small reader and leaned close to be scanned. _

_"Computress," Mandy said, her hard voice echoing in the recesses of the huge room, "identify Mandy by voice, palm print, and retina scan. Lift Invasion Protocol Alpha on my command authority code Furor Omega Restore six, six, six engage."_

_"Auxiliary back-up system engaged," responded the computer instantly. "Laboratory command transfer complete."_

_Wane red emergency lights came on, scattered throughout the lab as the computer did its best to obey. Ben cast Mandy a look._

_"Furor?" he asked._

_She grunted. "He thought it was punny."_

_Accurate was closer to the mark, but Ben wisely said nothing as they took in the destruction. Just two days ago this place had been shining and perfect and perfectly ordered. Now it was a disaster area. Mandy let out a long, hissing sigh as she took it all in. _

_"Hey!"_

_They all turned as Buttercup came streaking up towards them from the darkness. She pointed to the middle of the lab. _

_"Those Fusion rats tunneled through solid rock! It goes all the way to the quarry on the west side of town outside our Secure Zone!"_

_As she spoke her sisters joined her. All three Powerpuff Girls looked completely indignant that their present home should have been invaded this way._

_Mandy's jaw dropped, but she recovered almost instantly. She looked to Number One, but the KND was already speaking into his communicator, ordering teams out to secure the quarry and the tunnel entrance. _

_"Any signs of Fusion Mechs?" she demanded._

_"No, it just stinks," Buttercup replied. She looked up as more lights came on as Computress slowly recovered._

_"Computress!" called Mandy. There was an edge to her voice none of them had heard before. "Raise Grim for me right now!"_

_"Working," responded the massive computer, obedient to Mandy until her creator returned. The voice was slightly off, but stabilized gradually. "The Grim Reaper is in New Mexico leading Blue Squadron Delta against twenty Fusion Matter creatures."_

_As they watched a screen sprang to life in mid air before Mandy. The satellite image zeroed in at a stomach-dropping pace to pinpoint on an ongoing battle in the Infected Zone known simply as the Mesa. They could see Grim wading through the tall rock formations and the attacking Fusion monsters, wielding his scythe with deadly grace. He plowed up the ground with the blade and up burst purple flames and a host of demons. The winged lizards he summoned swarmed gleefully over the green monsters, dragging one of them down into the pit with them._

_"Grim," Mandy said, seemingly unimpressed with the unholy slaughter going on before her._

_"I'm a little busy, Mandy," snapped the Grim Reaper, who was actually nothing more than a skeleton and a robe. His Jamaican dialect seemed even more hopelessly out of place than Dexter's Russian accent._

_"Whatever. I need to know if Dexter is on this week's reaping list."_

_"Would you like me to pencil him in?" grunted Grim, slicing clean through the leg of the nearest dinosaur-like creature. Before it could heal again the demons hauled the severed limb away. Bubbles looked faint as the Grim Reaper laughed in pleasure at the destruction._

_"No. As soon as you're done there pull back. If Dexter's name comes up on your to-do list, I want to know."_

_"Before or after?" demanded Grim, wading into the thickest part of the fight. He blocked a monster from crushing one of the squad and gestured the girl to get out of his way. "You've got a few years left in you, girl."_

_"Before!" snapped Mandy. "The moment you know, I want to know! Got it?"_

_"Spoil sport," muttered Grim. "Yeah, yeah, I'll let you know if he's supposed to die."_

_"Good. Have fun. Mandy out."_

_They had a last vision of Grim about to get stomped flat before the screen went black. Completely unconcerned about her so-called friend, Mandy opened her mouth to speak when -_

_"Mandy."_

_Everyone jumped and stopped dead in their tracks as Dexter's voice, calm and commanding, emerged from the darkness. There was a faint 'ping!' sound and a moment later a flickering, 3-D image of the boy genius appeared in the middle of the floor, projected from the work station. A little larger than life, Dexter stood with his hands clasped behind his back as he addressed the leader of Earth's Combined Forces. _

_"This message is being delivered because your command codes have just lifted Invasion Protocol Alpha from my laboratory. If I am not with you now then I am either trapped within the laboratory, taken prisoner, or I am dead."_

_Bubbles let out a little squeak, then clapped a hand over her mouth as Mandy glared at the interruption._

_"All the stored and vital information from Computress' data banks has been dumped to a location removed from the laboratory, though her basic programming will follow your commands." The image of Dexter made a face, looking thoroughly disgusted. "On the top shelf of DeeDee's bedroom closet you will find what appears to be a dictionary. That is the remote storage unit for all of Computress' data and my research. DeeDee if you are listening to this I apologize, but I knew this information would be safest with you because you would never touch a dictionary. If there is no chance of my return, I recommend you ask Professor Utonium to reprogram and restore Computress."_

_"Blossom, go get that dictionary," ordered Mandy, and the Power Puff Girl flew out of the lab so quickly she was a streak of orange light._

_The ghostly image of their resident boy genius looked up, addressing his computer directly. "Computress, activate command program Remote Search Priority Code Forlorn Hope Zero, Zero, Zero."_

_In the recorded message Dexter picked something up from his work station and held it up for them to see. It was a small electronic device, and there was a light flashing on the screen._

_"You will find this in my desk in my living quarters, Mandy. Use your command override to open the door. This is the receiver for a tracking beacon, and it's just been activated. The transmitter is built into my glasses and as far as I have been able to prove it cannot be detected by Fusion. Wherever I am, provided I am still wearing my glasses, you can pinpoint my precise location. If I am missing, please hurry. If I am dead, do not allow Mandark into my laboratory. Victory and good luck to you all."_

_The hologram bowed his head in farewell and vanished._

_For the span of a few seconds silence reigned in the laboratory as everyone stared in stunned amazement. Then Mandy shut her jaw with an audible snap and pointed at the remaining Powerpuff Girls._

_"Bubbles, Buttercup, get back and hold that tunnel until the Kids Next Door get there and secure it. Number One, search teams and clean up crews down here pronto. Tennyson, Four, Five, with me."_

_They followed her out the blast doors and through the halls to a remote corridor. There was only one door and Mandy once again entered a long series of numbers into the electronic lock. The living quarters beyond were comfortable and clean – too clean for a boy Dexter's age. It was obvious that he rarely slept or even came here. _

_"Our digs aren't this nice," grumbled Number Four, coveting the entertainment system and wealth of computer games._

_"You don't own our headquarters," Mandy snapped, ignoring his flabbergasted response. She was already yanking open the drawers of the desk. It was disturbingly empty, just paperwork and mechanical odds and ends._

_"Shh!" Number Five suddenly ordered. "Listen."_

_They obeyed, standing still. There was a faint beep, and the leggy black girl pointed to the bottom drawer. Mandy opened it and immediately snatched up the only thing in the drawer – the small electronic device that Dexter had promised them. She handed it over to Number Five and in a matter of seconds the KND operative had figured it out. _

_"Well?" asked Ben._

_"Looks like . . ." She raised her head in surprise. "Just north of Pittsburgh."_

_"That's a Dead Zone!" Number Four exclaimed, tired of being left out of things._

_Ben's mind was awhirl. They were half the continent away. It was territory that had fallen to Fusion and then been abandoned, a no man's land of little worth to either side until this moment._

_"Tennyson, get a team together," Mandy ordered him, her voice cold and flat. "Take anyone you want. Get him back."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

That was all. Ben could have asked for the whole of Earth's Combined Forces and she would have sent them, so long as he was successful. As it was, he took a crack team of Kids Next Door lead by Numbers Four and Five, Buttercup, and their resident samurai, Jack, along with a support team for backup. He met Juniper Lee on the way to the docking bay and recruited her on the spot. If his experience in the field had taught Ben Tennyson anything, it was that getting out would be a bigger problem than getting in, especially getting out with Dexter since Fusion had been trying to capture him for months. He had left Buttercup, Number Four, Juniper and Jack to deal with the gooey Fusion Monsters thrown at them on the surface, while Number Five and her hand-picked commando team entered the ruined plant, following the tracking beacon.

Number Five had gone for the prisoners. Ben was after bigger prey.

And now here he was, alone, delving deeper and deeper underground. Fear was growing in what passed for an Aerophibian's heart. The longer it took to find him, the less chance Dexter had to survive.

And the better chance the Fusion Dexter had to find out the truth.


	7. Love and War

**Chapter Seven: _Love_ and War**

"Tell me about the Omnitrix."

Aching and sore, he leaned his head back with a little groan. The electrodes of the probe burned the tender skin on his temples and he could barely hear. "Find out for yourself."

"Very well."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Jeez, Dex, I don't think I'll ever get used to how big this place is."_

"_I need it this large."_

"_If you say so. Don't you ever get lonely down here?"_

"_Sometimes."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"That's it! Think about the analysis you did of the Omnitrix! Show me!"

". . . n-no . . ."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_What happened?"_

"_There was a surprise attack on some place called Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends last night. It was Camp Kidney all over again."_

"_Are there any survivors?"_

_Mandy made a face. "Just a handful. They weren't really in a position to retaliate. I doubt many Imaginary Friends are combat trained. The place was trashed. We haven't been able to get an accurate casualty count because it became an Infected Zone."_

"_And you called me up here to tell me this . . . why?"_

"_According to eyewitnesses the attack was lead by your latest Fusion twin."_

_He turned away to stare out the windows of his office - her office now - a small groan escaping him. He rubbed his suddenly aching head and said bitterly, "I thought he was reported destroyed."_

"_It was_. _It won't stay dead. Jack destroyed one, Blossom destroyed two, and Ben's destroyed one and seen another. Just thought you'd like to know Fusion is gunning for you big time."_

"_Wonderful."_

_"Hey!" Mandy left her chair to march across the room and glare up at him. She was a fierce little thing, whether she meant to be or not. "_You_ are not responsible for what that thing does!"_

_He dropped his hand and looked at her, making no attempt to hide his emotions. "Tell that to his victims."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Would you mind if I joined you?"_

_He looked up in surprise to see a short, bald boy wearing dark glasses and commando gear standing next to his table in the dining hall. Hastily he put his own glasses on again so that he wouldn't squint at the newcomer. The boy was about Dexter's age and he carried himself with confidence. He had an accent Dexter couldn't quite place, but it gave him an assured air._

"_Not at all." He gestured to the seat opposite him, setting aside his reading and asking, "Cocoa?"_

"_Yes, please. My name is Nigel, by the way. Code name Number One, with the Kids Next Door."_

"_I know. I've seen you before and I read all the reports from the field." He poured a mug of steaming cocoa from the carafe beside him and handed it to his guest before refilling his own mug. He held out his hand. "I'm Dexter."_

_Number One_ _clasped his hand firmly. _"_Thank you. And yes, I know who you are. I . . . well, you probably get this a lot, but I'm quite a big fan of your research. I've read everything you published about neurotomics."_

_He smiled faintly, surprised. "Actually, no, I don't get that very often at all."_

_Number One returned the smile. "I won't claim I understood everything in your papers, but your work is fascinating. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?"_

"_Fire away, Number One."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He gasped, yanked back to the agony of here-and-now. Dexter didn't know _why_ the mind probe worked, but he understood _how_. His thoughts, his memories, everything he knew was subject to the insidious mechanism. The Ur-Dexter, though, was digging so greedily for just the Omnitrix that a wealth of information was slipping past him.

"Give me what I want and the pain will stop."

The longer he delayed, the better chance DeeDee would have. He clung to that with what little will was left him.

"No. No. That's . . . when it . . . will start."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Billy, just because an idea comes at you quickly doesn't automatically mean it's good or should be acted upon."_

"_Uh, Dexter, do you mean I shouldn't have tried that glowing green jam I found in your refrigerator on my toast this morning?"_

"_That wasn't jam. That was Fusion Matter."_

"_I thought it tasted really weird."_

"_Yes. Well. Now we'll be able to study the effects of Fusion Matter on the human digestive system."_

"_Oooh! Like a science project?"_

"_Ex-actly."_

_"I bet you've wanted to do that for _ages_, Dexter!"_

_"Um, actually, no, it never occurred to me."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_Dexter ducked down behind the fountain in Townsville Square, instinctively covering his head with his hands as sharp-edged shards of rock rained down from the shattered statue of the Mayor. He had gone to meet Professor Utonium, stopped to talk to one of his suppliers, and the next thing he knew a vicious copy of his friend's daughter was trying to do him in. When he looked up a moment later he was nose-to-nose with a strangely serene and contemplative boy in oversized clothes and a knitted cap. He was toting a null-void gun but seemed completely disinclined to use it._

"_Something about you personally seems to have attracted the attention of the Fusion Powerpuff Girls," the boy said in a rapid monologue. "I would guess that for some reason they've decided that you pose a considerable threat to their attempted hostile takeover of Townsville."_

_Dexter gaped at him. Philosophy. In the heat of battle, this idiot was trying to determine the motivations of the Fusion Blossom for doing everything in her very considerable powers to kill him._

"_You aren't even armed, leading me to conclude that -" _

"_Give me your gun."_

"_I don't think you'd know enough abou-"_

"_I designed it!_ _Give me that, you idiot." He wrestled the weapon out of the boy's grasp and checked the settings. With one savage twist he ramped the gun to maximum power. This was an old design and at this level it would be good for only four or five shots, if that, but against the Fusion Blossom they had no other hope than to disrupt her structure and get out of here before she restored herself and got back to the task of trying to eradicate Dexter._

"_That's not -"_

"_Double D! Incoming!" screamed a voice from across the street. The idiot raised his head and looked about with interest, giving them away and giving Dexter the chance he needed._

_He twisted around. The first shot missed - the gun's sights were off and it kicked like a mule - but the next four were right on target as the ur-Blossom dove down at them from above. The last shot shattered her form, spattering them with green, gooey Fusion Matter. He wiped off his glasses in disgust as he stood up._

"_Thanks." He tossed the empty gun back. "Learn how to use this thing."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He slumped forward with a groan. Too thin. The air in here was getting too thin to breathe. His lungs were burning for more oxygen. He gasped, unable to scream, his vision going black and sparkly on the edges.

"The Omnitrix," droned the ur-Dexter, goading, digging, testing for weakness. Where none was to be found, the mind probe created weakness with merciless cunning and relentless pain. "Tell me of the Omnitrix."

Anything but that. He had to think of anything but the alien device . . .

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Wait! How much did you say?"_

_Dexter folded his arms and indulged in a smug and arrogant smile at Mandark's expense, but it was Mandy, busy signing the last round of paperwork, who replied._

"_The lease is for one dollar, payable upon the successful completion of this war." She came dangerously close to smiling. "I'll even foot the bill myself."_

"_That's insanity!" cried Mandark. He turned to face his much shorter rival in order to rail at him in true miserly fashion. "This facility is worth millions!"_

"_Billions," corrected Dexter._

"_And you're just going to hand it over to a pack of kids to use to fight a war?"_

"_You're catching on."_

_Mandy handed the paperwork to the host of dark-suited lawyers standing nearby so that they could check she'd signed in all the right places. "Earth's Combined Forces gets DexLabs headquarters, its holdings, DexCorp, vehicles, labs, all facilities, manufacturing plants, and grounds, etc., and . . ." Here she paused and gloated as the lawyers laid the papers out on the desk. "Its owner."_

_Mandark whirled on him, equally scandalized and confounded that Dexter could sell himself so cheaply. "You leased _yourself _to this war, Dexter? What kind of moronic move is that?"_

_He took the gold pen offered and began to sign page after page of legal documents, talking all the while. _

"_I can't speak for you, Mandark, nor can I imagine wanting to, but I for one am willing to do anything it takes to avert this invasion. This is not about money. It's about victory. After careful analysis, I have determined this is the best course of action to ensure Earth's survival. But don't worry for DexLabs. I keep all patents and copyrights I produce and will not pay for any upgrades to my facility. Allowing Earth's Forces to use this place will be excellent PR. Oh, and best of all, I'll be in the middle of everything and you'll be . . . across the street."_

_That last jab brought a blaze of fury and jealousy to Mandark's eyes. "I'll make a counter offer!"_

"_Too late." Dexter signed the last page with a flourish and handed the lawyer back his pen. _

"_We good?" demanded Mandy._

"_Everything is in order and iron clad," said the lawyer, shuffling the papers._

"_Good. Since this is now _my_ office, you can take your ego fest outside, gentlemen. I've got work to do."_

_Dexter blinked in mild surprise, but he had just signed up for this and he was in too good a mood to argue. He turned to go. For a moment Mandark gaped, thrilled to see a girl pushing Dexter around. He threw back his head and began to laugh dramatically, his clawed hands raised towards the heavens._

"_Ah-ha-ha! Ah-ha -"_

"_Shut up," ordered Mandy, halting him mid-laugh. "Get out."_

_There was nothing to do but obey, and Dexter smirked all the way to the lift. Mandark swept his cape around his lanky frame and followed, highly offended at being cut off in the midst of his patented evil laugh. They did not look at each other and the elevator ride to the lobby was silent until the doors opened._

"_Tell me this, Dexter:_ _why did you sign on to take orders from that obnoxious girl?"_

"_Because I'm much smarter than you are, Susan. Are you coming to the luncheon?"_

_"NO!"_

_"DeeDee will be there."_

_Mandark harrumped. _

_"Noon. My private dining room. An escort will meet you at the door."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"What are these things? You value them. You suffer for them. What are they that you should protect them?"

Air. Blessed air. Dexter sucked in a deep breath and coughed violently, groaning as the reflex brought pain to his throat and ears and chest. The electrodes at his temples burned and throbbed at each beat of his heart. Opening his eyes a crack, he was surprised to see the blurry form of his Fusion counterpart just outside the thick glass walls of the chamber.

"They are my friends," he whispered.

"What does that mean?"

His tongue was thick in his mouth and he could taste blood. "That means I will fight for them . . . and they for me."

"Why?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "There is no love on Planet Fusion, is there?"

"No."

"What then?"

"There is only hunger."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Dex-ter! Oh, Dexter! Dex- oh."_

_DeeDee went from bubbly to concerned in less than a second at the sight of her little brother so dejected . . . again. School was neither simple nor easy for him she knew, and his genius robbed him of a peer group. Without friends, he was a target._

"_Oh, Dexter, were they teasing you?"_

_He didn't answer, too ashamed and distraught to trust himself to speak. He just stared at the ground and tried very, very hard not to cry . . . again. DeeDee understood, and did not press. _

"_Come on." She took his small hand in hers. "Let's go home."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"What is love?"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_"Who is that?"_

_Mandy shook her head and sighed, rolling her eyes and turning away as the chunky, nerdy, bespeckled boy blew her kiss after sloppy kiss. Clearly this was a one-sided love affair. From the central atrium he waved up at her office window all the way down the stairs in the entrance hall before tripping on Billy's cat and tumbling down the last dozen steps to land in a sprawled heap. _

_"Irwin," she said, her disgust as absolute as the Laws of Physics._

_He ducked his head, trying desperately hard not to laugh out loud. Mandy's fury, impotent for once, only set him off as she snapped, _

_"Shut up! Go blow up something in your lab. Preferably yourself."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_What does this button do, Dexter?"_

"_Not now, DeeDee, please."_

"_What's wrong?"_

"_This fuel mix isn't working. It _should _be working. I checked and double checked my calculations! I don't understand."_

"_Maybe you need a break. How long have you been at it?" _

"_I don't need a break! I need to figure this out!" He slammed his hand down with a bang._

"_You didn't answer my question. How long have you working on this?"_

"_What's today?" he demanded shortly._

_She ignored his temper._ "_Friday."_

_He blinked, surprised. "You're sure?"_

"_Yee-es. It's pizza day at the canteen."_

"_Oh." He pursed his lips, sorry for having raised his voice. He'd been working this problem non-stop since Wednesday morning. Taking a deep breath, he sat back in his chair. "Perhaps you're right. Pizza, you said?"_

_She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Yup! Come on!"_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Dexter shook his head, confused by this change of pace and too exhausted and hurt and cold to rally his defenses. He rested his head on the glass, his words a mere whisper. "You've probed my memories. You've seen it expressed. Love is an emotion. You don't know it to recognize it."

"You love your sister?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because she is part of me."

The Fusion tilted his head, pondering this. "I am part of you."

Dexter did not dare to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see in this unnatural thing's expression. He had nothing left. No strength, no will, no resistance. He could feel himself fading. Given the chance, he would sleep forever. "You are not part of me. You are a shadow."

"Shadows prove the light."

"But they have no substance."

"Can love give substance?"

"It can make many things . . . worthwhile."

"Like pain?"

"Yes."

"And suffering?"

He swallowed, and his ears erupted in so much pain that he gasped. The pressure was increasing again.

"Yes," he rasped.

The Ur-creature's voice dropped to a whisper. "Does love make dying worthwhile?"

"I suppose I'll find out," he slurred, his voice all but gone. His nose was bleeding again. He didn't have the strength to stem the flow.

"The Omnitrix."

Despite all his efforts, all his defenses, his mind flashed back to that moment . . .

_. . . No . . . _

_. . . _and the truth - and Dexter - were laid bare.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"_Don't you ever get lonely down here?"_

"_Sometimes."_

"_Well . . . then what do you do?"_

"_I leave."_

_Ben sighed and shook his head. He'd walked right into that one. "Anyone ever tell you you're a smart alec?"_

"_Not lately. Smart, but not a smart alec."_

"_So. Think it worked?"_

"_Let's see. Computress! Play back the last hour of security recordings for the dining hall."_

"_There are six cameras in the dining hall," the computer's voice responded. "Would you like six screens?"_

"_To start," he responded. "We can narrow them down as we go."_

_Six huge screens appeared in the air around and above them, showing the comings and goings of personnel as they ate and relaxed in their headquarters. _

"_What's wrong?" Ben asked when Dexter made a little sound of vexation._

"_I'm even shorter than I think I am."_

"_Yeah, well, you're young. There's hope."_

"Thank you_, Benjamin. Look! They're back."_

"_Again. That's the third time. Gee. Think they're looking for someone? Ah-ha." He pointed. "We've been spotted. Jeez! Good thing looks can't kill! You'd be leaving in a basket, Dex."_

"_Hmm._ _Perhaps he's confused me with my Fusion. Computress, zero in on screen three, upper right quadrant. Audible on this screen only."_

_They listened to their own conversation of minutes before and the chatter of the surrounding tables. _

"_Well?"_

_Ben folded his arms, unhappy. "Good little actor. I can't say he's guilty, but he's sure not innocent."_

"_The timing is right."_

"_We'll need a lot more than that to point fingers."_

"_Agreed._ _I'll have Computress monitor their movements."_

"_I'll stick close and I'll fill Mandy in when I see her next."_

"_Thank you. I probably won't see her until next week unless something happens."_

_Ben loosened the strap on his wrist. "So, this glitch . . ."_

_Dexter held out his hand and snatched the digital watch Ben dangled before him. He made a face of pure contempt as he held the timepiece up much the same way he would have held a rat by the tail. Dexter muttered under his breath._

_"Hey! My grandfather gave me that!"_

_"Oh, I thought you got it out of a cereal box." _

"_Is that Mensa humor, Dex?_ _Disappointed?"_

"_Completely!" He settled into a better mood a moment later. "The risk is too high for me to do more than look at that thing. I probably shouldn't even do that much." He waved his hand at the Omnitrix before he sighed and shook his head. He turned his attention to the watch, by now positively depressed. "I told you to wear this on your right arm. Whatever powers the Omnitrix disrupts a lithium battery."_

_Ben chuckled, well aware of how badly Dexter wanted to get his cold clammies on the device he wore. "Listen, Dex, I don't care what the Plumbers say. Once we kick Fuse's butt and get rid of Planet Fusion, I'll give you as much time alone with the Omnitrix as you want. You can test it, analyze it, wine it, dine it, do whatever makes you happy."_

"_Can I try it on?"_

"_Except that."_

_He cast a final, longing look at the Omnitrix, then averted his eyes, walking away to physically remove himself from temptation. _"_I'll hold you to that promise, Tennyson."_

"_I expect you to."_

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"NO!" hissed the green-skinned copy. He slammed his fist onto the panel before him, denting it in his fury. _"NO!"_

Dexter hadn't lied. There had been no analysis of the Omnitrix, nor would there ever be. His spy had been wrong. All this time, effort – a waste.

He collected himself, staring at his helpless prisoner. Not a complete waste. He still had Dexter. He could still destroy him. With a glare and a sneer he adjusted the controls on the glass chamber, increasing the atmospheric pressure. As much as he could enjoy anything, he would enjoy watching his Earth counterpart die.

Alarms suddenly sounded. He looked up, unaffected by the knowledge that Earth's Forces had arrived. This was not entirely unexpected, though they had tracked down this location very quickly. No matter. He was done. Dexter would die. DeeDee . . . He considered the girl for a moment. DeeDee he would keep. The concepts of love and family intrigued him deeply, and she would be a valuable component in his studies. As for the other . . .

He turned to the waiting Fusion Mechs behind him. "Take the female in Cell 1 to the transport and prepare for departure. She is not to be harmed. Kill the other male prisoner in Cell 2. Prepare to repel an attack by Earth Forces. Go."

They filed out and he returned his attentions to his prisoner. With a twist of his wrist he increased the pressure almost to maximum. A harsh, agonized sound escaped Dexter, proving he was not unconscious after all. Not yet. He tossed his head, trying to escape the building pain. The green-skinned boy smirked.

Fascinating.


	8. Brains and Brawn

**Chapter Eight: Brains and Brawn**

_A/N Many thanks to all my anonymous reviewers - thanks so much for your support and encouragement! I greatly appreciate getting your responses to this story - I'm glad you're enjoying it! LB_

Her face was expressionless as she watched the sleek and silvery transport vessel lift off vertically from the launch pad and streak off into the darkening sky. The _X-1_ _August_, nicknamed _'The Princess'_ by DeeDee against the loud (and futile) protests of her younger brother, was the fastest aeroship Earth's Combined Forces posessed. It was actually Dexter's property, designed and built in DexLabs, but Mandy had appropriated it for her own purposes since she rarely allowed him the opportunity to use it anymore. She was certain he'd have no complaints this time, seeing as how she was sending it to pull his bacon out of the fire.

"You should have let me lead that mission," said an overly dramatic voice from behind her.

Mandy barely bothered to glance at the reflection cast by the muscular, long-haired, one-eyed man standing in her office. Hoss Delgado probably thought he had circumnavigated security and snuck into the command complex undetected when in fact headquarters security - a vastly overthought and overworked system created by Dexter to thwart Mandark at every turn - had detected him the moment he entered the Secure Zone around Downtown.

"You don't even know what it's about," she said in her usual dry tones, giving away nothing of what she was feeling. "Besides, I wanted them to come back in this lifetime, Hoss."

"That hurt," he said in clipped tones, playing for sympathy from the wrong dictator.

"It was meant to," Mandy replied, finally losing sight of _The Princess'_ glowing yellow exhaust . She felt a pang and frowned at the sensation. Could she be anxious? Her mind was turning over her last conversation with Tennyson. It had been a hurried, whispered account of his suspicions of who and what had brought them to this point, delivered right before he rushed onto the aeroship. She had known since Townsville fell that Dexter thought there was a spy here in command. Faith in his hunch was the reason she'd recalled Tennyson from the front lines. With Ben's observations to back up Dexter's suspicions, security footage and this present mess to prove the facts of the matter, she knew exactly what she had to do.

With a little huff she turned away from the eastern horizon and any concerns about the team she'd just dispatched to glare up at Delgado. "What?"

"You need me."

"Remind me why."

"Earth needs every able man, woman, and child to stand up and fight for the freedom that Planet Fusion threatens to snatch-"

"I had to sit through the Mayor's speech once, Delgado, I don't need your drama class version of it. Besides, Dexter's 'We have the tools, you have the talent' one-liner sank _everyone's_ battleship that day." Including her own speech given at the same occasion, though she would admit to nothing of the sort.

"That _was_ good," agreeed Delgado, plainly at a loss at having had his own plans torpedoed by the petite blonde. A minute or more passed as Mandy just stared at him through narrowed eyes as she came to a decision. Hoss began to fidget.

"I do have something you can do for me."

"Name it," he said too quickly, relieved that she finally blinked. "My planet needs me."

"I wouldn't go that far. I want you -"

"Yes?"

"To-"

"Yes?"

"Stop interrupting me!"

"Sorry. I'm a little excited and I had coffee four days ago. I haven't slept since Tuesday."

"It's Wednesday. I need you to make friends with someone."

"What? Who?"

"An Imaginary Friend I know."

He stared at her, horrified.

"I thought your planet needed you," she goaded.

Caught, he let out a growl. "It does. All right. No sacrifice is too great."

"Yeah, whatever. You've got a new mission, Hoss."

"I hope I don't regret this."

"I don't care if you do or you don't, just do the job. Come on. I have to time this right."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"So . . . you're all Imaginary Friends?"

Strange as they looked, it was obvious they thought Delgado - unwashed and armed to the teeth - was the strangest one sitting at their table drinking tea with them. He was crowded between Wilt and Coco and he was trying very hard to play it cool. If he had tried to join DeeDee's ballet class he could not have looked more out of place.

"_Si_, it is what we do," said Eduardo, draining his tiny cup. He sighed in true dramatic fashion, hoping for some sympathy.

Delagado ignored the glaring hint. "So . . . how's that working out for you?"

Internally, Hoss grimaced. This was not the type of work at which he excelled. He was made for action and intrigue, not tea and crumpets. These Imaginary Friends were an odd lot, especially that crazed thing that looked like a palm tree crossed with a bird. What kind of fever dream had produced these creatures?

"It's not working at all," said Eduardo, staring morosely at the table. "Fusion destroyed our home and many of our friends."

"The world lost a great jazz band," agreed Wilt, looking and sounding thoroughly depressed.

Again, Delgado ignored the hint. "How many of you made it?"

"Us. Frankie." Eduardo sniffed, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "No one . . . no one . . . no one else."

Delgado did a quick head count. "That's it? Four?"

"Coco! Cocococo!" cried the palm tree. She gestured and glared, plainly cross about something. "Coco!"

"Uh . . . Right."

"Bloo showed up the next morning," provided Wilt. "We were hoping for some more to make it, but . . ."

"So where's this Bloo character?"

"I'm right here," said a cranky voice. Delgado blinked and looked again as a little blue bump hopped off the couch. He was the exact color of the upholstery, which was why Delgado had missed him when he was pretending to be checking up on them for housekeeping. He seemed perpetually annoyed and he tossed aside a paddleball as he rose up in indignation. "I'm not a _character_! I'm an Imginary Friend! I _was_ an Imaginary Friend . . . " He suddenly sobered, then snapped right back to bossy mode. "When are we going to be allowed out? I'm sick of being locked in here. What's all hubbub, bub?"

"We're still on high alert," said Hoss, relieved to finally bring the conversation around to his mission. He wasn't sure how much more of this company he could take. "We're on total lockdown. Mandy's orders. There was a security breach yesterday. Fusions got into that lab that scientist kid has."

The teetotalling crew at the table expressed surprise, but Bloo was instantly excited. He perked up and jumped onto the couch again to point at Delgado.

"What happened? Tell me!" he demanded shrilly. His eyes were wide and he was panting for breath.

"Well, turns out they tunneled underneath headquarters and grabbed the whiz kid and his sister."

"And, and, and?"

Subtlety was plainly not an inherent quality in Imaginary Friends, Delgado mused. The little blue zit was near to blithering.

"They trashed the lab and got away with the nerd and the ballerina princess."

Bloo clasped his hands and grinned, close to tears as he begged, "Keep going!"

"Luckily the nerd is even nerdier than they thought. He has a tracking beacon on him. Mandy just sent a commando team to go rescue them."

_"WHAT?"_

They all jumped at Bloo's scream of panic. Coco ran off and Eduardo dove under the table. Considering he was the largest thing in the room, it made for a small hat resting atop his head. Wilt tumbled to the ground in a tangle of long, red limbs. Delgado didn't move, but just sat there holding his tiny tea cup halfway to his mouth, watching the blue blob across from him.

Bloo was staring up at the man, wide-eyed and full of unmasked terror. He shook himself, sputtering, "What? But - no! They - he - I - can't - No! No! They can't! I won't - I mean . . . " He suddenly switched gears and gave Hoss a cheesy grin, one he clearly thought was endearing. "Um, I have to go to the bathroom."

Hoss frowned. "Uh, okay."

"You can take me!"

Bloo jumped off the couch and undulated over to Delgado, taking his hand in his flipper-like appendage. Hoss stared down at the blue limb wrapped around his hand, not certain if he was horrified or revolted at the touch.

"The bathroom is right there," said Eduardo, pointing to the back of the suite where they were being housed.

"I hate that bathroom," Bloo snapped. "That bathroom stinks. I hate the tile. I want to use the bathroom by the cafeteria. I like the hand dryer in there. Can you take me? Now? Please? Good! Come on!"

He hauled Delgado out of his chair and dragged him to the door, as eager as a dog that has been promised a ride in the car.

"I don't know . . . we're still on high alert."

"Phooey on high alert! Who does Mandy think she is, anyway? I'll stay close and you can bring me right back here. Pleeeeeease! I really gotta go!"

As proof of his need he danced about. Hoss finally rolled his eyes and relented.

"Don't get out of my sight. And don't touch me."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Come on, come on, come on! Open up!" That last was yelled in a desperate crescendo that ended close to a scream.

He darted out the door the instant Delgado's card key opened it, cheering at his sudden freedom. Dashing about, he made a great show of gratitude and even stayed close by as promised all the way to the banks of elevators at the intersection of the halls. Instantly Bloo ran about and pressed every lift button, keeping in constant, bobbing motion around Delgado. Three elevators arrived almost simultaneously, and as Hoss glanced away, Bloo dashed into the first open door.

"Cloooooose!" He pounded the buttons as Delgado whirled, then smirked and waved as the doors closed on the snarling man.

"Hee-hee!" Bloo hugged himself at his daring escape, then sobered up. He had to warn them. Now.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_"You catch all that?"_

"Good job, Delgado," said Mandy into the intercom, never looking away from the security monitors. "I'll catch up with you later. Computress, where is lift seventeen going?"

"Level fifty-three," the computer immediately responded.

Mandy had her gunbelt in hand and Numbers One and Three right behind her in the headquarter's security command center as they watched Bloo's progress on the monitors. Strapping on the custom-made weapon (which Dexter, in a fit of stubborn perversity she hadn't seen coming, had made shiny pink and yellow for the sole purpose of annoying her and kept 'forgetting' to remake in more sober colors) she snapped, "Computress, slow that lift down, but don't stop it, don't let anyone else get on or off until it arrives at fifty-three. Bloo is not to leave this complex or be allowed to send any form of transmission." She held her hand flat before her as she moved to the doors. "Give me a comcube and a steady feed through the building."

Instantly a small, mobile, 3-D computer screen snapped to life over her hand and followed her at eye level. She pushed the screen a little off to the side and it stayed there, faintly glowing, a steady communication line to Dexter's super computer.

"Do not let him get out of sight, Courage," she told the nervous pink dog at the controls for the security cameras. He was a neurotic thing, but his constant terror and paranoia made him a highly effective security guard. Number One gestured for several other security personnel to back up Courage and immediately they moved into place.

"Two teams to follow us, Number Thirty-Four," Number One ordered the young boy in charge. "Wait in the elevators at level fifty-three for our orders."

"Yessir," responded the KND security sergeant, snapping to.

"Come on," Mandy ordered, leading the way to elevator in the security center. Without a word One and Three fell into step. "Level fifty-three, and make it snappy."

They shot up so quickly their knees buckled and Number Three tumbled over. The dark-haired girl grinned and clambered to her feet again as the elevator opened and they all staggered out.

"Where is he going?" whispered Mandy to the computer screen.

Instantly a diagram of the floor appeared, showing the three of them by the elevator and Bloo a few halls away.

"Bloo appears to be heading to the heliport dispatch center."

"Anyone in there?"

"Negative. Both crews are off duty or in the hangars."

"Let him get in but not out." She drew her glittery pink gun and nodded for the real experts to lead the way. Number One slid forward and took the lead, Three fell into place right behind him, and Mandy took up the rear.

Time to clean house.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Come on, you stupid . . . radio . . . thing!" hissed Bloo desperately. "Work! Work!"

Static answered his attempts to open the channel he had memorized over a month ago but used just a handful of times, and then always in a state of sheer terror. Those instances could not compare to the panic he felt now.

"Work . . . please!"

He could hardly credit that hearing that awful, hated voice would be a relief. He had to get through. He had to let them know. The alternative was too horrible to consider.

"Come on!" he said to the panel, frantically adjusting the controls. It worked every other time before when he had sent the information that he had so laborously gathered. His panic was robbing him of reason and he was crying with anxiety. "Work! Work you stupid-"

He smacked the communicator, then whimpered at the resulting pain. It wasn't working. It wouldn't work. He'd failed. He'd failed and the price would be more than he could bear. There was no doubt in his mind that the promises made to keep him in check would be carried out. He whipped the headset at the enfuriating and uncooperative array of buttons and knobs and dropped his face into his hands to sob.

Suddenly two cold points touched the back of his head. He stiffened, sitting up straight. A small glance to either side showed the barrels of two gleaming weapons pressed against him, held by top KND operatives. Then a voice even icier and more merciless than the Fusion Dexter broke the silence.

"Hullo, Bloo," said Mandy, powering up the null-void blaster as she took point-blank aim. "Care to explain what you're trying to do right now?"

Unable to look her or any of them in the face, the Imaginary Friend hung his head in shame and defeat. There was a long pause, and finally he whispered,

"He has Mac."


	9. Life and Death

**Chapter Nine: Life and Death**

A lab. Cold. Dark. Sterile. Like and yet unlike Dexter's neatly ordered kingdom. The only lights came from a few computer panels and . . .

In rush of dust and debris, Jetray came to dead stop. In the center of the room was a thick-walled, sealed glass chamber that glowed with a sickly green light.

Dexter was in the chamber.

Icy fear seized Ben Tennyson down to his very soul at the sight of his friend collapsed against the wall of the cell. There was a smear of blood on the glass and the young scientist was absolutely still. His first and last thought was that Dexter was dead, and his alien heart quailed at his human emotions.

A slight, dark figure standing on the far side of the room looked up at him, seemingly unsurprised at his presence, completely uncaring for the suffering of his victim. The chamber's eerie light illuminated the green skin and red eyes of Dexter's Fusion twin. One glance told Ben everything he needed to know - this twisted puke was pure evil.

"Ben Tennyson," he said with primitive pleasure. The voice was deep and gravelly, and he focused on the black-and-green symbol of the Omnitrix on Jetray's chest with unmistakable lust. "You have something I want."

"So do you, you sick little creep!" Ben shot right back, staggered. This thing could _talk?_ "Get him out of there!"

The Fusion smirked. "Get him yourself."

Dexter stirred slightly, and proof that his friend was still alive was all that Ben10 needed. He leaped to the air and flew around the lab twice, building speed before he launched himself at the glass compartment, a blur of orange and red. He had a fleeting glimpse of Dexter bleeding from the ears and nose and mouth, pale and dying, before the shock wave of his impact shattered the glass and threw the younger boy against the metal frame. The pressure chamber exploded outwards in a rush of glistening shards as atmosphere returned to the little room. Jetray was moving faster than the spray of glass and he swept past Dexter so quickly as to suck the debris away. The broken glass smacked into the far wall as he darted out of its path, leaving both of them untouched and the lab peppered with bits of sharp-edged shrapnel. Dexter lay where the momentum had thrown him against the back of the cell and did not move. There was not time to see if he was still breathing.

"Very impressive," said the Fusion, adjusting his glasses in a very Dexter-ish gesture. He deliberately pressed a button on the panel before him, and with a satisfied air he turned to confront the one person he had wanted most to see. His hands balled into fists and a slow smile twisted his thin green lips. "What else can you do?"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The cell was cold, though not as bad as the refrigerator DeeDee had been kept in, and very dark. The KND team kept back from the door so as not to silhouette against the light from the corridor as Number Five edged close to the entrance.

"Yo, anyone in there?" she called, weapon at the ready. "Answer up!"

Silence, and then a small, faint voice asked, "Hello?"

"Who's there? Come on out, pal, and keep 'em where I can see 'em!"

There was a shuffling sound as someone moved to the door, and presently a small figure came hesitantly toward the light. He was filthy and pale and had a wild, frightened look about him.

"Who're you?" demanded Number Five, disappointed that it wasn't Dexter.

He blinked, and his eyes were devoid of any hope. "I'm Mac."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He looked like Dexter. He moved like Dexter. He even glared like Dexter. It was the strangest thing for Ben to be contending with this inhuman creature that was so . . . human.

The fight was purely physical right now, pitting speed against strength, two alien beings that would never have met save that they battled for the same prize. Ben needed to stop him, to keep this doppleganger away from his helpless friend. Dexter was a wretched, immobile smear of white and red lying amidst the remains of the pressure chamber.

He'd fought these Fusion creatures before, but this one was different. Smarter, it almost seemed, more precise and ruthless if that was even possible. He was fast, too, almost as fast as Jetray.

But not quite.

Speed was everything now. The Fusion was stronger than an Aerophibian, and so Ben did everything to keep him off balance and get in strikes to try to cripple this thing long enough for him to grab Dexter and get away. They exchanged blows that Ben knew he would be feeling later, but he never let up for a moment. With a burst of velocity Ben streaked behind the copy of Dexter, lashing out with his tail as he passed. The doppleganger staggered not with pain, but at the sheer impact. Seeing his chance, Ben whirled at a pace dizzying even for him, going in for a second strike.

The Fusion caught his tail and held it, crushing tight, his fingers digging into the tough hide. Ben let out a howl of pain, yanking against the grip. There was murder in the Ur-Dexter's red eyes.

So Ben Tennyson did the first thing he thought of and whipped his wing straight across those eyes.

A cry of anger rang out and the Fusion staggered back and away. Ignoring the pain from the scratches in his tail, Ben poured on the speed, back and forth across the room at a terrific rate, thrashing the wicked copy with each pass. It was a good feeling to strike back at this thing that had caused so much agony. Foster's. Dexter. DeeDee. He did this for all of them, but most especially for his friend.

A cry of anger and defiance rang out, but from whose throat it came Ben could not say. At the next hit, delivered with all his strength, the Fusion destabilized. Oozing green slime, the copy of Dexter tumbled to the floor, broken. Ben would have loved to smear this little puke from here to Pittsburgh and back, but there was no time. He had to get Dexter out of here. Now.

But not in this form. He couldn't fly and carry Dexter as Jetray. Besides, without protective gear and oxygen, Jetray's speed would probably do Dexter in, given his present state. At his friend's side he powered off the Omnitrix, reverting back to human form for a moment. He leaned over Dexter, grimacing at the tacky, sticky feel of half-dried blood as he checked for a pulse. He was alive.

"Dex . . ."

There was a sound behind him. Ben whirled to see the Fusion laboriously trying to reform his body, drawing the spattered green goo back to him, watching with maniacal greed and hatred. Ben let out a hiss of alarm and activated the Omnitrix.

_"Big Chill!"_

He slapped his hand onto the control and gave himself over to the alien technology, changing, reforming, remaking him into the Necrofriggian. Wrapped in his wings, he turned to the broken copy of his friend and with his next breath he let out a blast of icy vapor to envelope the Fusion. The green-skinned Dexter's hiss of fury broke off as he was immobilized, a thick coat of frost covering him and the surrounding equipment. That would hold him, but past experience against these Fusion Matter dopplegangers told Ben that being turned into an ice cube wouldn't stop him for very long.

He threw his four wings wide and knelt by the wrecked pressure chamber. Carefully, as gently as he could while still making haste, he lifted Dexter into his arms. Even with his alien strength Ben was shocked at how little he weighed, and the younger boy was absolutely limp. He lingered long enough to be sure Dexter was still breathing, trying not to be horrified at the blood on his face and neck and hands and the dark stains on the front of his lab coat. Clasping him close and secure, wishing there was some way he could let his friend know that he was free, Ben ran to the door, his wings already beating the air.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Mac?" Number Five looked to her team and received only negative responses. The name meant nothing to them.

"I was at Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. We were attacked," the ragged boy said quietly. He looked shaken and scared, but like DeeDee he was unhurt. "The Fusion Monsters brought me here . . . uh, I dunno how long ago."

Number Five stared, rocked by this revelation. This was the last thing in the world she had expected.

"You're coming with us," she replied. "Number Eighteen, keep an eye on him and DeeDee." She looked to the skinny blonde. "Dee, scream if you see any Fusions. Got it?"

"Got it," said DeeDee brightly, and taking a deep breath she let out a blood-curdling scream at the top of her lungs, pointing down the hall toward her old cell.

The commando team jumped a foot in the air and whirled about to see two Mechs moving toward them from out of the shadows. Their sensors glowed red in the gloom and their weapons were being brought to bear on the cluster of child soldiers.

"Fall back!" shouted Number Five, seizing DeeDee and yanking her along. "Move it!"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He did not have time to seek out another, shorter route for fear of getting lost, nor could he use the Necrofriggian ability to phase through matter to reach the upper levels of the refinery. The intense cold would kill Dexter. Instead Big Chill was forced to fly through narrow corridors that barely allowed him to spread his wings fully, moving as fast as he was able and as he dared to get back to the surface. He constantly checked on the small form clutched to his chest, so warm and fragile in comparison to a Necrofriggian.

A rumbling vibration filled the air and he paused, hovering, his sensitive antennae quivering as he tired to get an idea of what was happening. The long-abandoned steel mill that the tracking beacon had lead them to was nestled in a river valley amidst the ubiquitous mountains that covered this region of Pennsylvania. The area was honeycombed with mines and dotted with heaps of slag and waste, and it had been mostly abandoned by people even before Fusion's arrival had driven out every living thing that remained.

Their arrival here was just a promise of things to come - it had been as hot a landing zone as Ben had ever seen. They had been met by half a dozen towering Fusion Monstor that looked like nightmarish dinosaurs gone completely wrong, and even before Number Five set _The Princess_ down Jetray and Buttercup had exited the aeroship and attacked. He had broken off his assault on the monsters the moment he saw Number Five's team enter the plant in search of Dexter, leaving Buttercup and the crew of _The Princess_ to handle things in the air while Samurai Jack led the assault from the ground. It was their job to engage the Monsters and the inevitable Mechs and buy the two infiltration teams time to get their friends and, if Mandy's hastily relayed information about the spy in headquarters was correct, destroy the Fusion Dexter. Ben was not worried about the assault squad. He had chosen them because they were proven to be capable, seasoned fighters and they knew their business well.

No. It was Dexter that had him sick with anxiety. In the past Ben had witnessed for himself what Fuse's dopplegangers were capable of doing to a person in an hour. Minutes. Seconds.

And Dexter and DeeDee had been captives here for days. Betrayed, seized, and tortured, Ben realized bitterly that the fusion had used his friend as much for information as for bait to draw in him and the Omnitrix. He held the sad results of that betrayal in his hands right now. Anxiously he checked Dexter again. Unconscious, but alive.

At first he had been rather astonished at how resourceful his friend had proven to be. A tracking beacon in his glasses had been a stroke of genius - but then, what did he expect from a genius? As Mandy had said in the lab, "This is Dexter." He shouldn't have been surprised, but he couldn't help but wish that Dexter had not parted with the glasses. Of course he would entrust them to DeeDee, though. Helpless as he was, Dexter had again put himself between his sister and Fusion.

Another low, echoing roar reached his senses. The rumble was not from outside where Earth's Forces faced the Fusion Monsters. It came from beneath him. Big Chill paused, straining his antennae. He could sense Dexter's uneven breaths, the sound of the air past his wings, and . . .

A hissing sound, almost like a wave breaking on sand, reached his senses. He turned to face this new development, bracing the small body of his friend against his chest, bracing himself for the worst.

Or so he thought.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

It was very evident within a minute of fighting the smaller Mechs that they had two very distinct goals in mind: Mac's demise and DeeDee's capture. Why they should be trying for either kid Number Five had no idea, nor did she care. It was enough that the Mechs were gunning for both of their former prisoners. They were too small a unit to take on three of these things at once, especially since they had two shaken and mostly useless civilians to protect (though DeeDee was doing an excellent job as an early warning system, having spotted – and screamed at – three more Fusion Mechs).

Three of the seven KND commandos laid down cover fire as they retreated down the hall, back to the machine shop entrance where they had entered. They could hear the sounds of the battle going on outside, see the flash of weapons and energy beams against the dark sky. For a moment bright green light poured through the broken windows and skylights. They knew that Buttercup had just flown past the shop at breakneck speed.

"We gotta get outside pronto!" called Number Five. They wound through the gloomy remains of equipment and work tables to the door, but even when she put her shoulder into it the door would not budge.

Number 431 jumped onto a table, straining on tip-toe to see out the grimy windows. She was too short, so she pressed her eye to a crack in the wall by the door frame.

"Blocked," she announced. "Looks like something plowed up the ground in front of the entrance, but this way's no good." She looked to the windows, but they were too high to reach.

"This way!" called Number Eighteen, waving at them from the other side of the room. He shoved the heavy door open.

"Wait!" cried Number Five, too late. A green mechanical claw snatched him through the door, into the darkness beyond, and his howl of surprise was cut off abruptly. He didn't have a chance and a moment later more of the Mechs – small but numerous – forced their way through.

"Number Four, we need backup!" Five shouted into her communicator as the KND team drew back towards the blocked doors of the shop.

_"We're kinda pinned down!"_ came his choppy reply.

"Get kinda unpinned or we're toast! The door's blocked!" she shot right back, taking aim with her null-void caster. They soldiers were firing fast and furious at the advancing Fusion Mechs, but there were too many for the concentrated fire necessary to do real damage.

A piercing scream ran out, echoing against the metal walls as one of the Mechs seized DeeDee. Panicked, she struggled as it lifted her bodily and began to withdraw, back the way they had come. Number 431 shoved Mac behind a huge drill press, letting the old equipment shield him since he drew so much fire before she made a try to free DeeDee. One blow from the hulking Mech sent her flying, and she crashed to the floor.

"We need help now!" screamed Number Five into her comm unit. She dodged and took cover, seizing 431 by the ankle to haul her limp form out of the line of fire. "Watch her!" she ordered Mac, laying hold of the commando's gun. She brought both weapons to bear on an advancing Mech that looked like a cross between a gargoyle and a robot and fired at almost point-blank range. The creature spattered green slime and another round of twin shots brought it down.

"Keep at it!" shouted Five.

The room was hot and stank of ozone and Fusion Matter. The flashes of lasers from other side gave the large room into a weird, disjointed strobe effect. DeeDee was screaming desperately, pounding on the Mech with her bare hands. There were too many Mechs to fight. They were being overwhelmed. Mac let out a shout of alarm as his cover was yanked away and he and 431 were exposed to the Fusion Monsters. He tried to scramble out of the way and dropped to the ground with his hands over his head as the Mech loomed tall and menacing over him.

_"Heads up, Number Five!"_

She barely heard Number Four calling her over the comm unit strapped to her wrist. A moment later there came the sound of shattering glass and the white-robed form of Samurai Jack came leaping down through one of the skylights. He landed lightly amidst the Mechs, giving them pause, and a moment later his sword leaped from is sheath and he began to cut a swath through the hideous creatures. More glass rained down, followed by ropes, and Juniper Lee led a handful of KND commandos into the shop. They rappelled down to the shop floor, catching some of the Mechs in a cross-fire, and they leaped into the thick of the fight. Juniper landed on one of the shop tables and jumped to the floor, standing over the prone form of 431 and defending the downed operative. She gestured broadly, gritting her teeth, and the Te Xuan Ze sent the advancing Mechs stumbling back away from Mac. With a frightened shout he hurried to get behind her.

"Jack! Get DeeDee!" ordered Number Five, waving him to the far end of the room.

The samurai turned, took in the situation instantly, and crossed the shop in a series of bounding lunges and jumps that brought him over abandoned equipment and fusion Mechs alike. He landed in front of the armored creature holding DeeDee, blocking the way out, his steely gaze as intense as any laser beam. DeeDee stared in mute astonishment, choking on her scream, her blue eyes wide.

Then Samurai Jack was a blur of motion, the curved katana moving gracefully through the air at a speed too fast to follow. Abruptly he stopped, satisfied, waiting and watching, and after a moment he stamped his foot.

The tall, insect-like Fusion creation shifted, and then slid to the floor in neat slices all around DeeDee. She was dropped down to her feet as it collapsed around her, and with a little squeak of "Oh!" she stepped free of the slimy puddle of goo.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered.

He nodded his head in return, and then crouched down, pulling her arms around his neck in a tight hold as he prepared to return to the fray. With her wry dancer's strength she clung to him, letting out a happy and inappropriate "Wee!" as he leaped back across the room. He set her down beside Mac and immediately returned to the battle.

A few minutes later, it was done. Panting, gasping, the exhausted Earth troops looked to each other and their wounded.

"We . . . we gotta get out of here," gulped Number Five, hanging her head for a moment. Her arm was bleeding and she didn't even feel it. "Who's hurt? We lose anyone besides Eighteen?"

Before anyone could respond their comm units sprang to life.

_"Number Five!"_

It was Number Four. He sounded more alarmed than usual. She looked at Juniper and immediately the Protector activated her communicator. "This is June. Go for Five."

_"_The Princess_ heard from Ben! We've got trouble!"_

Juniper and Number Five exchanged an incredulous look.

"What did we have just now?" wondered Juniper.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

A glow, faint and ominous, filled the darkness behind him. He stared, needing to know what was coming.

Then he saw it, creeping along every surface like some diseased mist, filling the air with a sickly glow and the stench of _Infection_.

_This_ was why the Ur-Dexter had been so satisfied. He'd released Fuse's answer to mustard gas.

He wheeled around and flew as fast as he could, away from the spreading alien virus. In this state the Infection would suck the life out of them both, destroy the very structure of the mill, poison the land and river as far as it could spread. Everything it touched would be undone, reduced to so much more raw Fusion Matter, so much more ammunition to be thrown against them. It would go on and on, consuming and refining itself, breaking down the terrestrial matter at a molecular level until it was condensed to the familiar stuff that made the Mechs and Monsters and dopplegangers.

Suddenly he swept to a halt, hovering mid-air. The glow was now coming from before him as well. There was no forward, no back. Big Chill looked up, and without hesitation blew a blast of arctic air at the ceiling above. The metal gave way, collapsing with a phenomenal crash, and he angled his wings close to dart through the opening he'd made. Another hall like the one below, another blast of freezing breath and this time he had to kick the frozen metal to get it to budge. The icy swath of ceiling came down in noisy, dusty sections and he wrapped his wings tightly around himself and the boy he carried to protect them both from the falling debris.

A swift glance back showed him the glowing, almost glittering green Infection spreading up through his opening from the level below. He leaped to the air, soaring into the open plant floor above. It was a huge space, two or three stories high, and in its heyday had been used for producing steel. Through the dim windows he could see streaks of color and light as the battle raged outside. Behind him the lower levels of the complex began to collapse, consumed. He looked down. The Infection was spreading, oozing through the steel mill from the regions below, spreading like mold.

He keyed his communicator. The rest of the team needed to know they were being threatened from below.

"_Princess!_ This is Ben! Come in!"

There was a delay and a crackle and then a young and excited voice called, _"Ben! Report! Did you find him?"_

"I got Dexter. He's in bad shape. The Fusion is still down there but he's released an Infection. Repeat, he's released an Infection! It's spreading through the complex. We've got to get out of here now!"

_"Infection?"_ squawked the comm officer. _"I'll signal a recall. Do you need help?"_

Then he realized that something was wrong, terribly wrong, beyond the onset of the Infection.

"Dexter!"

He wasn't breathing.

"I've got a man down!"


	10. Death and Disease

**Chapter Ten: Death and Disease**

She tore through the sky so quickly that she could feel her skin grow hot at the friction, so fast and burning that she sliced clean through the arm of one of the Fusion Monsters harassing the KND unit lead by Number Four. He waved her on as his team took on the injured attacker. She paused in mid air, untouched by Fusion Matter, with steam rising off of her skin. Not even the cold night air could cool her and with the mood she was in, she didn't want it to.

Blossom and Bubbles would, she knew, be shocked and a little appalled (but not surprised) to learn that Buttercup was having the time of her life as she took on the overwhelming odds of almost half a dozen Fusion Monsters. Action this intense was what she lived for, what she had been made for, and she welcomed the chance to blow off some steam.

Besides, it was all good practice for when she finally got the chance to pound Mojo Jojo into pulp.

That fact that their headquarters had been attacked by Planet Fusion's forces had infuriated all of the Powerpuff Girls. Since Townsville had fallen so easily to their enemy Buttercup had been itching for a dustup. Blossom might work through her emotions at the thought of being a refugee and Bubbles might cry out her grief the day through, but Buttercup had gotten mad, stayed mad, and now she was out for some revenge. She hated Fusion and the fact that they had not been able to save their home. To have their new home assaulted was the final insult.

She and Ben Tennyson had been the first to engage the Monsters and once he'd broken off the fight to go hunt the Fusion Dexter, she knew she'd also be the last. That was fine, so long as she got to trash these slimy creeps and reduce them to muck from which they came. They were weird-looking things, like long-limbed T-Rexes cobbled together from assorted animal parts and painted an ugly olive green, and they seemed the extreme limits of what Fusion was capable of holding together and animating. In their dash to be first one to the Monster, Buttercup and Tennyson had sliced clean through the closest of the creatures, wrecking it. Ben was good in a fight, and if he hadn't asked her to come along she would have volunteered, though she was sorely tempted to challenge that Jetray alien to a race once this was done. They bought time for _The Princess_ to land safely and discharge the ground troops. Their nerve impressed her. She had her powers and strength and flight, but the Kids Next Door and the others only had moxie and weapons that never seemed quite formidable enough to take out the enemy easily as they took out Earth's forces.

So far she had taken apart two of the Monsters – the first one with the help of Jetray - and the ground troops had mostly taken out a third. Number Four seemed disinclined to let her finish it off for them, and she suspected it was his ego getting in the way. No matter. Samurai Jack parted the Monster from its head with a few swipes of his sword. Buttercup laughed at Number Four's expression a moment, when suddenly-

__

SWAT!

The blow from behind knocked her clean out of the sky. Buttercup had a brief glimpse of the Monster's clawed hand, barely heard the horrified shouts of the KND troops, before she was slapped straight through three floors of the nearest office building. She came to a stop amidst a tangle of old desks and file cabinets; all shoved to one end of the room by her momentum. For a moment she sat there, stunned and indignant that something five stories tall had snuck up on her, and then she got angry . . . er.

"'Everything nice' my foot," Buttercup muttered darkly, swiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she got back to her feet. She flew straight back out the hole she had made and without thinking twice let lose with a blast of heat vision that lit up the night sky and cast the battle in harsh light for the few seconds it lasted. She couldn't do that often because of the amount of energy required, but when she did, the effects were devastating.

The blast temporarily blinded her friends, proving against their fears that she was quite well and completely unharmed, and their squawks of pain reassured her of the same facts. The blast also served to reduce the Monster to something close to a cinder. It crashed over onto some crumbling garages, shaking the ground with the force of an earthquake.

"Who's next?" she demanded. She looked up as _The Princess_, which always put Buttercup in mind of a gigantic dragonfly, swooped by in a strafing run, spitting red-orange laser blasts at the Monster furthest out. The null-void cannons – supercharged versions of the guns the ground troops were using – knocked into the dinosaur-like beast with staggering force. The Monster roared a challenge and swiped at the pest. Knowing she'd only get in the way of the ship, Buttercup was about to get back into the fray when her comm unit activated.

_"Buttercup, this is_ The Princess_! Number Five is pinned down where they entered the mill. Number Four wants you to drop a team on the roof there."_

"They ready to move?" she demanded, already flying toward the shop. She dodged a blast of Fusion Matter one of the Monsters spat at her, and the great blob of goo actually took out a few of the smaller Mechs trying to circle behind the KND commandos battling the nearest dinosaur-like creation.

__

"Yes! You've got Jack and five others waiting!"

"On it!"

****

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"_Dexter!"_

Big Chill plummeted toward the nearest flat surface, a catwalk spanning the mill floor, and even as he set his limp burden onto the grated surface he was powering down the Omnitrix. Ben Tennyson tumbled gracelessly beside his friend, panic-stricken.

No, no, no! Not after all this! He would not let him die!

He fumbled to press his fingers against Dexter's throat. A heartbeat. Faint. He wasn't breathing. His own chest heaving for air, Ben tilted Dexter's head back and forced his jaw open. Pressing his mouth over Dexter's he blew all the breath in his lungs down the younger boy's throat, into his lungs, to his blood and heart and brain . . . Again. Again. He rested his hand on Dexter's chest, feeling the motion of his rib cage expanding as he forced his friend to breathe, checked his pulse, feeling the slow beats registering beneath his cold fingers.

Breathe. Breathe! How could someone so smart forget to do something so basic?

He forced another breath into his mouth. His hands were slick with blood and his fingers almost slid off as he pinched Dexter's nose close. He could taste blood. Smell it. Smell Fusion Matter. Infection. Sweat. Another breath. His lips were still warm. He was alive. His heart was beating. His nose was bleeding. He just needed to breathe . . . Dexter's narrow chest rose, then he exhaled with an odd little sound. Close to faint, Ben breathed for him again, making him live. Refusing to let him succumb. Refusing to lose.

Not Dexter. Not here. Not now. Not at the hands at that slimly green puke that had smiled and tortured him to the point of death and then released this Infection. Planet Fusion would not win. Ben wouldn't allow it. They were stronger than this, stronger than Fusion.

"Breathe, Dexter!" he ordered desperately, anger replacing fear at the prospect of losing not just one of the most brilliant minds in the world, but his good friend. He had lost too much to this war already, sacrificed too much to give anything more. His voice rose almost to a scream. "Come on,_ breathe_, you stupid jerk!" He shook the younger boy soundly and slapped Dexter hard across the face, his hand smearing the sticky blood, and for a moment he was horrified at himself.

But . . .

Ben let out a shuddering gasp as Dexter's lips moved slightly and he drew a long, rasping breath. The sound was awful and glorious at once, full of pain and effort and _life _as he coughed and gagged raggedly. As if suddenly remembering how, he drew one shallow breath after another. He fought for the first few, and then his body got back to the business of simply being alive.

Wiping his mouth and spitting blood that wasn't his, Ben had to force himself to breathe as well. He was so agitated he ran the risk of hyperventilating, and his hand trembled as he brushed stinging moisture from his eyes. He hadn't even thought about what he was doing. He had simply acted. Apparently his instincts were good and it had been the exact right thing to do. He spat again and gave his head a shake before he finally looked around.

"Holy . . ."

The floor below was covered by the glowing green Fusion virus. Ben stared, thunderstruck. He'd never known an Infection to move so fast. Could it be a new strain? Something that twisted green freak had developed?

It was climbing the walls, reducing the metal to dripping slag. He looked up. Long, thin fingers of shiny green were stretching to the ceiling.

The virus was trying to trap them.

It was working.

__

"Ben! Ben, where are you?"

He jumped at the sound of _The Princess'_ comm officer coming over the unit on his wrist and instantly replied,

"I'm in the main plant. I need help. Send Buttercup!"

__

"She's sort of in the middle of something!"

"We're gonna be sort of in the middle of this Infection if she doesn't get here!"

__

"Hold on!"

He stared upwards, searching desperately for an opening large enough for Big Chill to slip through that wouldn't involve jarring his injured companion or coming into contact with the spreading virus. Either could be fatal. He glanced down at Dexter and felt a moment of terror that he wasn't breathing until he realized his friend was between one breath and the next. Dare he move him? Dare he not move him? Ben had no idea of what the Infection could or would do to any of the aliens in his Omnitrix, but it had the habit of absorbing and incorporating alien DNA into its repertoire. He had no desire to find out if it would give him the option of turning into another slimy, gooey, stinky mass or if the Infection would consume the existing DNA and thus incorporate it into Fusion. He shuddered at the notion of Fusion versions of the alien zoo he commanded.

The Infection was glowing with faint, glittery luminescence, casting the huge room into an eerie twilight. It was moving toward them, seeking the frail catwalk. Ben Tennyson knelt alongside his friend. He had no choice. He'd delayed a matter of minutes and any longer would be a true disaster. Big Chill was his only option. He was dialing through the Omnitrix, hoping a brilliant idea for escape would hit him, when movement on the plant floor caught his eye. He looked down, straining to see.

The unmistakable silhouette of the Ur-Dexter looked back at him with glowing red eyes.

****

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

It was a matter of two quick jumps from ground to rooftop, each time carrying a person in each arm with one clinging to her back. She took Jack first and the moment the samurai's feet touched the roof he was jumping straight through the nearest skylight. Juniper Lee and the rest followed as soon as they secured their lines and Buttercup got straight back to the battle and almost straight into the iron grip of the nearest Monster.

She strained, screaming out her pain and fury as the Fusion beast tried to crush her. It brought its other claw up to add pressure and make her escape even more difficult as it grasped her with impossible strength. Buttercup battled to hold back fingers that were as long as she was tall.

__

"Buttercup! Ben's calling for help!"

"I'm a little busy, _Princess!_" she bellowed, not realizing the ship couldn't see her dilemma. "Tell Number Four to open fire on this thing!"

The aeroship streaked by in another strafing run and seemed to realize her situation.

_"You might get hit!"_ cried the comm officer, his voice squeaky with alarm.

Through gritted teeth the Power Puff Girl snapped, "Ask me if I care!"

A moment later the Monster holding her stumbled. She glanced down to see Number Four and his dozen or so remaining commandos leveling a steady stream of fire on her captor's leg. Well, at least he was good for something. It was distracted, and with a burst of energy she twisted out of its hold, snapping off one of its fingers for good measure.

"Now . . . I'm . . . _really_ . . . mad!"

She was as good as her word. In a frenzy of speed and strength she attacked the Monster, pounding, kicking, chopping at its limbs. Buttercup's scream echoed through the night as she vented all her pent-up fury on the thing before her. It was too much. The intense vibrations of the blows, coupled with her blinding speed, overwhelmed the structure of the Fusion Matter. She broke free, panting. For a moment it was still, wiggling like jelly, and then the thing burst apart at every seam, cascading down in a smelly, harmless rain of green gook across the entire battlefield.

"Arrgh!" screamed Number Four from far below her, splattered with the heavy slime. "Thanks a lot!"

__

"Buttercup, Ben says there's Infection spreading inside the mill!"

A low hiss escaped her at the call from the comm officer. That was bad. Worse than bad. She looked to the factory as _The Princess' _null-void cannons wrecked havoc on the last Fusion Monster standing. Sure enough she could make out a green glow within the huge structure, showing faintly through the skylights and sooty windows.

"Get rid of that thing, _Princess_, then get the land units out of here. I'll get Ben and Dexter and we'll catch up with you over Ohio. Patch me through to Ben right now. Move!"

****

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

For a moment they stared hard at each other, and then the red-coated Fusion clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk through the coating of Infection toward the center of the floor. His stance, his stride was all Dexter, a sick mockery of the unconscious boy at Ben's feet.

He had never known any Fusion – Mech, Monster, Hybrid or otherwise – to recover so quickly. That thing was unreal. He lost sight of the slight form amidst the huge pieces of equipment below, but his passing was marked by dark footsteps in the glowing slime.

__

"Ben!"

He seized upon his comm unit. "Buttercup! We're in the main smelting plant! The place is full of Infection! I don't think I can fly us out of here without getting infected."

__

"Where are you?"

"On a catwalk right in the middle. Dexter is down and his doppleganger is heading our way!"

__

"Almost there! Get Dexter!"

He knelt, adrenalin and need giving him the strength to lift Dexter into his arms. It wasn't easy because Dexter was as limp as a sack of meal and couldn't help by holding on. Ben grasped him close, just as he would have carried a child.

He _was_ carrying a child.

He glanced down. Dexter's head rested on his shoulder, a mass of tangled red hair and a bloodied face, and he could feel the short, quick breaths blowing against his neck. So long as Dexter kept at staying alive, Ben was ready and willing to lug his weight to the ends of the earth if necessity required it of him.

"Do you actually think I will allow any of you to leave this place alive?"

He whirled. The Fusion Dexter stood at the end of the catwalk. Cool and contemptuous, he regarded Ben with those glowing eyes as if this whole rescue attempt was a study in futility. All around him Infection spread like some fast-growing, virulent mold, and it seemed to expand all the faster for his presence. A crash of collapsing equipment echoed through the room as below them metal gave way to the viral attack.

Ben's green eyes narrowed sharply and he countered with, "Do you actually think we came here to die?"

Slowly, a smile twisted the Fusion's thin lips as he advanced.

"Yes, I do."

Anger simmered deep in Tennyson's chest. He took a step back, instinctively turning to protect his friend. "You guessed wrong, jerk."

"With Dexter dead and the Omnitrix in my possession not even Fuse will be able to stand against me."

"It hasn't happened yet!" he snapped. "He isn't gonna die."

A little snort - so like the original - escaped the Ur-Dexter. "You cannot escape."

Where was Buttercup? Ben twisted away from the railing as a hair-thin tendril of Infection reached for him. The grating of the catwalk beneath the Fusion's feet was starting to glow. How soon before it was consumed and collapsed beneath their weight? He shot a glance upwards at the skylights, and then returned this cheap copy's contempt with a smile of his own as he saw a streak of light like a shooting star pass overhead.

"Wanna bet?"

In that instant the building shook from foundation to smokestacks as Buttercup, probably the heaviest hitter Earth had to offer in this war, arrived in a tsunami of speed and fury. The ultimate cavalry unit, she smashed a gaping hole through the reinforced wall of the plant, scattering cinder block and steel framework before her. Never stopping, the Powerpuff Girl streaked into the room, her green energy lost amidst the glow of Infection. Faster than Ben's eyes could follow, Buttercup attacked Dexter's twin before the Fusion could grasp what was happening. With all her momentum and strength behind her, she leveled a roundhouse kick at the imitation, catching him in the mid-section.

Ben stared. One moment the doppleganger had been a few steps away, and in the next he was gone, slammed so hard through the far wall that he was little more than a splatter mark in the room beyond.

"That felt _good_," said Buttercup, well pleased with herself.

__

"Buttercup!"

She twisted in mid air at the desperate cry. The Infection was almost at Ben's feet and the catwalk was starting to turn to metallic slime. It pitched and Ben struggled to stay upright.

"Oops!"

She dove for Tennyson, catching him and easily supporting his weight and Dexter's. She wrapped her arms securely around him with the boy genius sandwiched between them. Dexter hadn't moved this whole time, but he was alive and breathing.

"Hold on to him," she ordered. "Close your eyes. I'm going to blast my way out."

It was a good plan, considering the whole roof was now consumed in the iridescent virus. Ben closed his eyes tightly, ducking his head close to Dexter's. Despite the precaution a blinding flash of light brought a hiss of pain from his throat as Buttercup let loose with a shot of heat vision. She swooped out of the way as a large part of the ceiling collapsed and then tore into the clear, moonlit sky.

For a moment she hovered over the steel mill, assessing the destruction. Ben, a little disconcerted to be held so easily by anyone so petite and slim, blinked at the afterimage her heat vision caused and then looked down as well.

He gasped.

The remains of the half-dozen Fusion Monsters and innumerable Mechs littered the ground below. Some of them were still twitching and trying to recover; others had been too badly damaged. The mill was partially demolished, crushed in the battle, crushed by the downed Monsters and smaller Mechs.

But it wasn't the Monsters that shocked him. It was the Infection.

The steel mill glowed in the darkness as if lit from within. He could see the hole Buttercup had made for them to escape – at that close range she had demolished half the roof of the main plant – and even as he watched the virus spread. It was consuming the building like fire. Soon it would envelope the whole complex, Mechs and Monsters and all, maybe even the whole valley, giving Fuse's side that much more material in this war. An out building gave way, and before their eyes a towering smokestack slowly sank down without a sound or hint of resistance, reduced to raw Fusion Matter. The stench was almost overpowering.

"Never saw Infection like that," muttered Buttercup.

"I think it's a new strain," Ben replied.

Turning, she flew off into the night, heading west. "I sent the ground team on ahead as soon as they got out," she explained. "It doesn't look like they had any sort of air units here. I didn't want anyone to catch that yuck."

"Good thinking."

The Power Puff Girl gave a little "Huh," of satisfaction, and then quietly asked, "How is he?"

His voice was bitter. "He's alive. That's about it."

She frowned, remembering the lingering little crush she and both of her sisters still harbored for their father's good friend and fellow scientist. "What did they do to him?"

"I don't even know."

She flew faster.


	11. Hurry and Wait

**Chapter Eleven: Hurry and Wait**

Buttercup flew directly into the cargo bay of _The Princess _after they rendezvoused with the aeroship over Ohio. Medics were waiting for them as she set down lightly, bracing her passengers until the bay door closed behind them. The Powerpuff Girl released her grasp on Ben and immediately swept Dexter into her arms before he could crumble to the deck. She gazed down at him for the first time since she had rescued them from the steel mill, seemingly surprised to find herself holding her father's friend and stunned at the sight of blood covering his face and front.

"We'll take him," said one of the KND medics, touching her arm.

She blinked a moment longer at Dexter's drawn features, then gently laid him on the waiting gurney. Looking to the anxious medical officers, Buttercup quietly said, "Take good care of him."

"We will," promised the medico in charge, a young Asian boy. "Come on, I want his vitals before we get to sickbay. 207, get some fluids started. Tennyson, is that yours?"

"What?" wondered Ben, catching his breath and chafing his arms to warm up again. He blinked, and the medico pointed to the dried blood on his face and hands and jacket.

"Oh." He looked down, astonished, and stammered, "N-No, it's his. I'm okay."

The KND doctor nodded. "I'll need you in sickbay as soon as possible."

"Be down in a minute," promised Ben. He looked to Buttercup. "Are you all right?"

She pursed her lips, looking ill at ease as Dexter was whisked away. "He's just a little older than me," she finally admitted in a quiet tone, glancing at Ben. Plainly Dexter's condition was bothering her deeply. "We used to try to make him blush when he'd stop by the Professor's lab."

The notion of Dexter surrounded by a trio of pretty, flirtatious girls was enough to bring a weary smile to Ben's face. "That can't have been much of a challenge, Buttercup."

"It wasn't," she agreed, "but it was fun."

"He'll be okay," Ben found himself responding automatically, as much for her as himself. "He's tough."

"I hope tough is enough," was all she said.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The sickbay in _The Princess_ was compact and crowded and not made to handle the number of injured that this mission had produced. The delay in receiving their primary patient had given the medical staff a chance to deal with the casulaties - ranging in Number 431's broken ribs and collarbone to the cut on Number Five's arm - and so they were ready for Dexter when he arrived. The medics were working on stabilizing their patient when Ben entered, their voices low and clipped. He watched and listened, the lingo beyond his ken but his anxiety more than a match for any of them. There was a reassured air about the chief medico that gave great comfort despite his youth and he used the equipment and gave orders with practiced ease. Though Ben admired the innovation and ability of the Kids Next Door to McGyver effective equipment from the most basic materials, he was glad for the modern technology surrounding him. He supposed it was simply a matter of being comfortable with what was familiar. He was doubly glad for Dexter's sake because odds were good that boy genius would freak out if he woke up and found himself hooked up to a respirator jury rigged from a bubble gum machine and vacuum cleaner tubes, all held together by duct tape. Come to think of it, Ben was fairly certain he would have freaked out right along with him.

"Hey, Ben," said a small voice beside him.

He turned to see DeeDee, haggard and exhausted, sitting wrapped in a blanket in the only chair available. Her hair was limp and dirty and her face was streaked by soot and tears. In her hands she clutched Dexter's glasses.

"Hey, Dee," he replied, awkwardly putting his hand on her narrow shoulder. He wasn't particularly close to or familiar with DeeDee - to him she was simply Dexter's annoying sister. Seeing her pale, tearful face and thinking on the anxiety and hardship she had suffered, he felt a wave of sympathy and clumsy affection for the gawky teenager. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Pretty okay." She stole a glance at her brother where he lay small and still in the bed. The only thing of Dexter visible through the wall of medics was his hand, stained rusty-brown with his own dried blood. "Thank you," she said with a sniff. "You saved him."

"Just returning the favor," he replied. "Do you need anything?"

"I . . . I want to go wash up. Will you stay here with him?"

"Yeah. You go ahead. I'll be right here. I have to talk to Number Seventy-Seven anyway."

"I'll check on Mac, too."

"Mac?" He frowned, unable to place the name.

"Oh!" DeeDee exclaimed softly, wrapping the blanket tight around her skinny frame. "You don't know. He was a prisoner, too. Number Five freed him. He said he's from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, that place the Ur-Dexter attacked."

A chill swept through Ben Tennyson at her innocent statement and he felt himself shudder as the truth was hammered home. Suddenly he was run down and sore, his head and body aching. His thoughts were moving so fast that he couldn't keep up. For a moment his thoughts scattered, and from that chaos the pieces fell into place very neatly. Dexter had been right in his suspicions. Up until the attack on Foster's, there had never been any hint of a traitor among Earth's Forces. Even the worst of the worst - Mojo Jojo and Father and Him - had set aside their grudges in light of the greater threat presented by Planet Fusion. It couldn't actually be said that they worked together, but they all shared a common goal and rarely worked against one another. Even Dexter and Mandark (mostly) managed to co-exist without opening a secondary line of battle in the boulevard between their individual company's headquarters. Things started to fall apart only when the refugees from Foster's had arrived.

What had Mandy said? She had sent a transmission a few hours after _The Princess_ had set out for Pennsylvania. It was a highly irregular move for her - usually when Mandy gave orders the person or team ceased to exist for her until their mission was fulfilled or they were declared lost. Ben realized only now exactly how worried the leader of Earth's Combined Forces really was.

_"Tell Tennyson that the world's not ready for two Einsteins, but he'd better be."_

That was all. He'd grasped her meaning immediately, but he'd been so focused on the rescue mission that he hadn't given much thought to how she came about her information. Only now, a day later, did he realize she had cornered Bloo and most likely wrung a confession and reams of information out of him. Given his friend's condition, he could only hope Mandy had been as gentle with Bloo as the Fusion had been with Dexter.

DeeDee rambled on, unconscious of Ben's reaction. "He's very little and he's sweet. He was really excited when he found out that some of the Imaginary Friends survived! Even his own friend -"

"Bloo," finished the older boy. DeeDee's surprise that he should know Mac's friend was complete.

"Yeah. How'd you know?" Without waiting for an answer she rose. "Listen, I'll be back in just a few minutes. Watch these for me, will you? And tell them to be careful washing his hands. His fingers were really hurting when I tried to clean them."

She handed him the black-framed glasses and slipped out the door. Ben sank down into her vacated seat with a little groan, overwhelmed by events. He stared at the glasses and let himself be amazed for a few moments at the engineering masterpiece they represented. On the surface there was nothing about them that set them apart from any other set of eyewear in the world, yet this small device had managed to save three lives. He held them up, wincing and looking away when he saw through the lenses. Dexter had lousy vision, and that was putting it nicely.

He leaned against the wall behind him, quite prepared to nod off even though he knew he'd regret sleeping without a boiling hot shower first. That doppleganger could _hit_. His aching ribs were testimony to that.

"Here."

He blinked, rousing from his stupor to see Number Seventy-Seven, the best field doctor that the KND had, standing before him. There was a steaming cloth in his hands that he offered to Ben.

"You need to wash up a bit," said the Asian boy. "I'm also prescribing you a broad-spectrum antibiotic."

"What for?"

"Biohazard exposure," was all he said.

"How is he?" asked Ben, wiping his face. The heat and moisture were like unto paradise against his windburned skin, but he was surprised by the smear of dried blood on the cloth and rubbed harder. Biohazard expose was an understatement. He mentally winced as he remembered tasting blood. Gross.

"Right now he's stable, but we need to get him back to headquarters immediately."

"What happened to him?"

"I was going to ask you that. Tell me what happened. Where was he when you found him?"

He began to relate what he had seen and done to free Dexter from the Fusion. Seventy-Seven asked a number of detailed questions, forcing Ben to focus his memory on the lab and the hideous sight of Dexter sealed within the glass-walled chamber. When he came to the moment that his friend had stopped breathing he hesitated, suddenly stuck by the enormity of what had happened and what _could _have happened.

"I was so mad," he confessed, incredulous with himself. He blinked. "I slapped him!"

"Did it work?"

"Well, yeah, he started breathing again."

Number Seventy-Seven actually smiled a bit. "Shock and pain can actually do a lot of good in situations like that, Ben. You did exactly the right thing."

"I guess so."

The medico pursed his lips, growing serious. "You say the chamber exploded when you hit it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, based on what you and DeeDee have told me and Dexter's condition, I'm going to guess that was a decompression chamber of sorts that the Fusion was using on him."

"Huh?"

"If you think about it, it's a pretty easy and effective means of torture. You can cause a world of pain without killing a person outright. It's a good thing he's young and skinny." He ran a hand through his black hair, a cowlick making the front stand up, as he looked for the words. "I'm not going to lie to you, Ben. He's not in great shape. He and DeeDee are both dehydrated, malnourished, and suffering from mild exposure. His ear drums are ruptured, his sinuses, too. He's damaged his vocal chords - most likely from screaming too long - and right now I can only hope his vision won't get any worse with all the blood vessels that have ruptured. We've got him on oxygen therapy and as soon as we get back he'll be undergoing treatment for decompression sickness."

"You mean like the bends?" he wondered, remembering diving with his grandfather and Gwen and the precautions they had taken.

"Exactly. Any severe change in pressure can cause it and from what DeeDee said, it was already hitting him at the end of the first day. By day two his membranes were ruptured and by day three he couldn't walk."

With a little sigh Ben slumped in his chair, staring at the glasses he clutched. His knuckles were turning white with strain and he eased off, afraid of breaking the delicate frames.

"So tell me, Kazu," he said, foregoing code names and numbers and addressing the young doctor directly, soldier to soldier, "did that thing use a mind probe on him?"

Regretfully, the boy nodded. "By the burn marks, I'd say eight or ten times. Looks like Dexter put up a pretty sizable fight."

He stared up at the medico before him, too tired and stricken to hide his reaction. He didn't know what to say or do. He'd spoken to a few survivors of mind probes (for there were only a few who lived through the experience, though if it was because the probe killed them or they'd been executed immediately afterwards, Ben did not know) and they'd said that the pain was brutal, but what was worse was having their every thought and memory and emotion revealed and examined. To be so exposed was the real outrage. Eight or ten times? That was just . . . _wrong._

"I wish I'd killed that thing!" he growled. There was a feeling of sick helplessness in the pit of his stomach.

Number Seventy-Seven took a longer and more philosophical view. "So do I. But you had more important duties. Getting Dexter out of there alive is a major accomplishment in itself. Think on that and on this: when he wakes up he's not going to be able to hear or talk and most likely he won't be able to see very well. He's going to be in a world of pain and probably scared out of his mind. He's going to need all friends on deck, Tennyson."

Ben pushed himself to his feet, nodding to Kazu. "He's got it. Can I see him?"

"Yeah. Come on."

He followed Number Seventy-Seven to the only medibed in the sickbay. Leaning heavily on the rail surrounding the bed, Ben was struck by the sheer, fragile _smallness_ of his friend. Dexter's eyes were bandaged, though not heavily. Number Seventy-Seven explained that was more to protect his vision from the light than to cover a wound, but Ben was glad he couldn't see the burn marks from the mind probe. He lay perfectly still, and it seemed any movement would break him. His skin was as white as the bandages, and there was a fine spray of red across his cheeks like spider webs where the blood vessels had broken. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose and it was with a certain great sense of relief that the older boy simply watched his friend breathe, grateful for every slow breath that he took. Better than anyone, Ben Tennyson knew the cost of each breath. Pillows braced his legs and arms, keeping his joints flexed, and he was restrained by padded straps to the bed. Monitors and medical equipment and instruments the function of which he couldn't begin to guess were crowded close by, beeping and humming and fading into white sound.

"Jeez, Dex," he muttered, shaking his head. "Can't you do anything halfway?"

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The answer to his question was a resounding _No_.

Mandy, flanked by Number One, Number Two, and Grim, met them in the docking bay. As he walked down the ramp with Samurai Jack and Numbers Four and Five to greet her, Ben thought he saw something suspiciously like relief flit across her face before her normal scowl took over again. Oh, well, it was nice to know she was capable of worry, however fleeting it may be.

"How is he?" she demanded. She had received regular updates over the past four hours, but she wanted to see and hear for herself that their resident mad scientist was safely returned.

"We're fine, thanks," grumbled Number Four, immediately on the defensive. He ignored Number One's pointed look not to start anything. He hadn't had a chance to wash off the coating of Fusion Matter that Buttercup had rained down upon them. His hair and skin were tinted green and he stank like billy-o. His mood was just as foul as his aura.

Mandy cast the blond KND a glare. The two of them had never gotten along, but plainly only he cared. "Obviously. How is he?"

"He's a mess," Number Five said before Four could dig himself in any deeper, "but a live mess. We'll get him to medical pronto."

"Good. I want your reports by tomorrow morning. We'll debrief then. Anthing else I should know?"

"The whole area north of Pittsburgh is Infected," said Number Five.

Mandy shrugged. "It's not a priority zone. Number One, see to the crew. Two, take care of the wounded. Grim, go get Billy out of the exhaust port before they fire up the engines again. Jack, you and Number Five get Dexter to medical. Tennyson, with me."

As Number Four grumbled about ingratitude and Number Five told him off, Ben caught up with Mandy after a quick nod to Jack to stay with Dexter and keep watch over him. He matched his strides to her short but quick steps and for a few minutes they were silent, walking through the halls of their headquarters. Dexlab HQ was massive, and Ben was there so rarely that he was almost immediately lost. Mandy seemed to know every nook and cranny of the place, however, and he dared not let her get out of sight.

"Well?" she finally asked, pausing at a window. It was night and with the darkened hallway they could see the city beyond their headquarters. It seemed so quiet, so civilized in comparison to the hellish landscape of the battlefield they had left behind just hours ago.

"You were right. It was his Fusion." He looked down at her, meeting her hard expression. "Never seen anything like him, Mandy. He can talk, he's as obsessive as our version of him, and he's independently ambitious of Fuse."

Her sharp mind caught the implications instantly. She folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing. "Dexter is dangerous enough as it is. An evil twin that wants to set up its own power base could be bad for us . . . or Fuse."

"Or both," he added. "That Infection Number Five mentioned? The Fusion released it. I've never seen an Infections spread so fast. That entire steel mill and probably half the valley is slag by now."

Mandy nodded. "We'll keep an eye on it," she said, then paused. "Well?"

He knew what she wanted. "He was tortured."

A small sound like a hiss escaped her and without a word she turned and began walking deeper into the building, leaving him to catch up. As much as Mandy was capable of liking anyone, she liked the members of the command team surrounding her. Or if like was too strong a word, she valued them for their capabilities, and Dexter was very, very capable. Every dictator needed a mad scientist or two working for them and the redheaded genius filled that role for her very nicely. The KND were the backbone of this operation. Ben10 and Jack were her front-line generals. The Powerpuff Girls were her shock troopers. Mandy was the mastermind behind this war effort, and she did not appreciate people messing with the things she considered her own, lease or no lease. If Fuse and his minions wanted scientific geniuses, they could darn well get their own.

She drew a deep breath, enjoying the wave of fury that filled her and taking it out on the elevator controls. "He's tough," she finally commented. "He can take it." It was as close to a compliment as she was capable of getting.

"I hope tough is enough," he muttered, quoting Buttercup.

"Huh. What else?"

The lift doors opened and they stepped in. Mandy pressed a button and the elevator plunged downwards. Ben knew her well enough by now not to take offense for his friend's sake at her callous statements – he knew she thought highly of Dexter. Without his talent and the facilities he had leased to Earth's combined forces, they would have been in far worse condition and position to resist Planet Fusion's invasion. This was just Mandy being herself and while he didn't actually like the girl, he had a world of respect for her and everything she was doing for their side.

"The Fusion used a mind-probe on him. More than a few times, actually, according to Number Seventy-Seven. He was rabid about the Omnitrix."

"Did it get what it wanted?" demanded Mandy, refusing, as always, to grace Fuse's diabolical creations with so much as a gender. Her eyes automatically flicked to the Omnitrix on his wrist. Dexter's desire to find out what made the alien device tick was well documented, and clearly his double not only understood the awesome potential of the Omnitrix but he had inherited Dexter's fixation with it.

"There was nothing to get," Ben replied. "Do you actually think I'd put him or me in that position? C'mon, Mandy!"

"Spit it out. Rumor has it you let the whiz kid have some unsupervised play time with that thing."

"I was talking about my watch the other day in the canteen, not the Omnitrix. Dex and I set the whole thing up beforehand. We figured we were being watched, so we gave our spy enough rope to hang himself with."

She looked simultaneously satisfied and miffed with him. She was a micro-manager on such a grand scale that being out of the loop on the least detail was enough to get her riled. In this case, however, Mandy knew that even if she had known of their intent she would have approved and the outcome would have been exactly the same. No one could have suspected that the Doppleganger would strike from below.

"Next time you plan something like this, I want to know. Got it, Tennyson?"

"Got it. So tell me . . . was Dexter right?"

The lift came to a halt and with a smirk and a sharp gesture she motioned him to accompany her. The doors opened and she led him down a dimly-lit corridor. Through several armored doors, past security checkpoints, past silent KND guards, she escorted him deep into the building's rarely-used detention block. She spoke a few quiet words with the officer in charge before the young boy brought them to a specific holding cell. The boy keyed the control panel and the door whisked aside.

Bloo, frightened and alone, looked up with a gasp.

"I'd say that's a yes," growled Mandy.


	12. Trial and Error

**Chapter Twelve: Trial and Error**

"Well?"

Mandy handed him a data recorder drive. "I want you to watch this from beginning to end. This is my and Number One's chat with that little slime. We don't have anything in place for dealing with this sort of situation. I want your take on it and your opinion of what we should do."

With a sigh Ben took the drive. Mandy caught his expression.

"For the record, Tennyson, the only thing I enjoyed about that was the thought that I was making him feel a little bit of what Einstein Junior and DeeDee must have been feeling at that moment. I've got better things to do with my time."

Ben made a face, unable to forget the image of Dexter lying in a crumbled, bloodied heap, and as he took it from her hand he muttered, "No matter what he was feeling I'm sure it wasn't enough."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_"So?"_

_"Um . . . so what?"_

_"Are you going to tell me what I want to know voluntarily or am I going to have to make you talk?"_

_It was obvious which method she favored._

_"I want a lawyer."_

_"Really? Okay. A lawyer. Anything else?"_

_"Um, yeah! Better food! And I want to get out of here. And I want to be with my friends again."_

_"Anything else?"_

_"Yeah! I've got rights!"_

_"Do you?"_

_"Uh-huh!"_

_"What are they, exactly? 'Cause from where I'm sitting, you've got nothing."_

_Bloo hesitated, realizing too late that he was being mocked, and that by an expert. Normally he was the cleverest and wittiest of his peers, with all the sharp ideas and come-backs. It occurred to him that he was at a complete disadvantage. The blonde girl across from him - Mandy - was easily as intimidating as the Fusion he'd been dealing with and about as understanding. He glanced at the other person in the room, but Bloo already knew he would be of no help. Number One sat in mute revulsion as he bore witness to the interview, making no attempt to hide the hatred he was experiencing. Off to the side, a KND stenographer took down every word, never looking up from her machine. _

_Mandy folded her arms on the table and leaned across at the Imaginary Friend. Her eyes were narrowed and steely with disdain._

_"Y'know, Bloo, I know a couple of people that want those exact same things as you do right now. Well, maybe not the lawyer. Dexter already has a whole army of them. But I'm sure he and DeeDee would love to have better food and to be out of Pittsburgh and back here with their friends. Thanks to you, though, they've been captured by Planet Fusion."_

_He stared at her, ashamed and defiant. "I had to do it. He would have killed Mac."_

_"Who is Mac?"_

_"My best friend! The best friend in the whole world! And I'm – I'm his Imaginary Friend."_

_"Your best friend," she echoed as if this was the first time she'd ever heard of such a thing. "So . . . what has this Mac done for the war?"_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"It's a pretty simple question, Bloo. What has Mac contributed to freeing this planet – your planet, by the way – from this invasion force? Is he a soldier? Scientist? Scout? Does he give money or is he a doctor or mechanic? What does he do that makes him so important that our side should be completely compromised so that he lives?"_

_"He's . . . he's my -"_

_"Your best friend. Yeah, I know. What's Mac done to make his life so important to this cause that Dexter - who's vital to it - should be sacrificed for him?"_

_"Mac . . . Mac isn't part of the war."_

_"Well, he is now, pal, and so are you. You're just on the wrong side."_

_"N-No! No, I'm not! I hate Fusion! I just want to get Mac back!"_

_"Spare me." Her contempt all but colored the air around her. _

_"No! I really do!" He was pleading, desperate. _

_"Brilliant." Mandy gestured. "You hate them so much you just handed over our top scientist and the number one financier of this whole war effort and his sister, in some flimsy attempt to keep a kid alive that's done absolutely nothing for planet Earth. Yeah, I'm buying your side of things. Tell me another one."_

_"It's not like that!"_

_"Then what's it like? Tell me. Who was your contact?"_

_"Dexter!"_

_She glared._

_"No! I mean it! That's his name! Not that creepy kid here, the green version of him! Honest!"_

_Number One seemed inclined to throttle Bloo for calling Dexter a creepy kid. The only thing hampering him was Bloo's lack of a neck. He settled for a hearty frown that brought a glimmer of sweat to the Imaginary Friend's brow._

_"His Fusion, you mean?" demanded Mandy ruthlessly._

_"Yes! The one that attacked Foster's! He came in with Mechs and Monsters and they were killing everyone and - and he took Mac and he wrecked my home and he made me go to him and he said he'd kill Mac if I didn't get into Earth's headquarters and get him information on Dexter – the other one – and the Omnitrix and send him reports and – and – and -"_

_As he spoke the enormity of what he had wrought seemed to dawn on him. He stared at Mandy with eyes full of tears, stricken and suddenly horrified with himself._

_"Did it ever occur to you to come to us and ask us to do something?" demanded Number One, unable to keep silent any longer. "We could have used this situation to our advantage and worked towards saving your friend."_

_Bloo looked horrified anew. "You – you would have done that?"_

_He slammed his fist on the table. "We gave you and your friends shelter, didn't we? This is fine repayment for our kindness."_

_The Imaginary Friend hung his head, crushed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, well aware that they neither cared what he felt nor did they wish to hear those words from him._

_Mandy sat back in her chair. Her eyes weren't glowing red, but they may as well have been. She looked every inch as capable as any Fusion at getting what she wanted and there was no doubt she would be as underhanded and merciless as the enemy if he did not cooperate._

_"Start with Foster's," she ordered._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The interrogation was over three hours long. Ben watched every moment of it, then went back and watched the first hour of it again. It left him feeling nauseous, but he embraced the anger generated in his chest.

For all he was an amateur, Bloo had chosen his targets well. Through flattery and sweet-talk he had gotten his information about the planned assault on Townsville from Ed. To learn about the defenses, he had challenged Billy to a game of one-upmanship, somehow aware that Billy had recently wormed his way into Dexter's laboratory and must have seen the experimental weaponry the scientist wanted used against Fusion. He had sent information about the layout of their headquarters, personnel, staff, and every scrap of information he could find out about the primary leaders of Earth's Combined Forces. It was disconcerting for Ben to hear himself discussed as just a name, a thing, a source of information for the enemy. It was definitely a good thing he was so rarely here.

Bloo would sneak into the heliport radio room atop the DexLab building to contact the Fusion. He did not know, as Ben knew, that Computress had been tracking his every move during his last few days of freedom. It was unfortunate that the Fusion had acted far faster and with greater purpose than they had.

Number One took over the questioning, his smooth voice under tight control as he pried answers out of Bloo. Swiftly he got to the heart of the matter: the Fusion not only wanted the Omnitrix, but he wanted Dexter. And not just Dexter – he wanted to get his hands on both Dexter and DeeDee. With single-minded fervor born of hopelessness, Bloo never questioned why both children should be taken. Ben knew full well DeeDee was wanted only to control and manipulate her younger brother. As much as they fought, they were very devoted to each other and Dexter would defend her against the world if needs be.

Bloo clearly had no notion that he had been set up when he eavesdropped on their conversation about the Omnitrix. Once the Fusion had found out Dexter was going to do an analysis of the alien device, Bloo's last task had been to watch DeeDee and report when she entered the lab. That was all. He knew nothing of what the Fusion planned, nor did he give a thought to anything or anyone beyond Mac. His desperation was complete, and his thoughts did not run to consequences. With the delivery of Dexter and DeeDee into enemy hands, he fully expected the person that had attacked his home, slaughtered his peers, and kidnapped his best friend to keep his word and free Mac.

Ben watched in sickened fascination, glad he had missed this and wishing he could avoid it now. He was sorely tempted to call Seventy-Seven and see how Dexter was doing, but he'd already been warned that they expected little change anytime soon and to let the decompression chamber do its job so the nitrogen in his system reverted to its normal state. Instead he backtracked the recording and listened to Bloo's defeated voice as he tried once again to explain why he had betrayed them so completely.

He was not surprised that Bloo's reasons were not entirely selfless.

_"I . . . I don't want to end up waiting to be adopted."_

For that he had handed over Earth's foremost creative genius. For that, Dexter had been tortured. Because Blooregard Q. Kazoo was afraid of being alone, Ben Tennyson's good friend and fellow soldier had almost died.

He froze the image, staring at the blue face and the wide eyes, feeling no sympathy. He was certain Bloo was sorry, as much for his failure and getting caught as for making such a huge mistake.

A knock on the door roused him from his brooding and before he could respond, Number One and Number Two filed in. They were followed closely by Eddy, who slapped four bottles of root beer into the center of the table. The boys dropped into chairs on the other side of the table and fell into brown studies of their own.

"Anyone check on Dexter lately?" Ben finally asked, snagging one of the bottles.

Eddy raised his hand. "Tried. I got told off by a nurse. At least she was cute," he added, consoling himself.

Silence. Finally Eddy opened his root beer with a loud hissing noise. Number One gave in and took the last two drinks, passing one to his subordinate.

"You guys see this?" asked Ben, waving his bottle at the frozen image of Bloo.

"First hand," said Number One bitterly as the others nodded.

He powered down the unit, already sick of Bloo. "So what do you think?"

Number Two leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. "There are a lot of factors involved."

Ben glared. "I had to do rescue breathing on one of those factors!"

Number One raised his hands, gesturing for calm on both sides of the table. "As an Imaginary Friend, Bloo was responding to his nature to protect the boy that created him. I'm not defending him, Ben," One said sternly as that green-eyed glare shifted to encompass him as well. "I'm merely stating a fact. There's no denying his conduct was unacceptable, but at the same time he was exploited and to a certain degree he's a victim of Dexter's Fusion as well."

"A much lesser degree," corrected Ben coldly.

"Much," agreed Eddy.

Number One nodded, recognizing their stance. He thoroughly approved and agreed, but as the person most used to command and all its burdens present he felt the need to state the case as clearly and fairly as possible.

Number Two gave up studying the ceiling and nursed his drink. "We'll have to establish his status."

"How about '_Traitor'_?" suggested Eddy grandly, framing the word with his outstretched hands.

"He's not in the military or affiliated in any way. We can't court martial him."

"Enemy combatant?" suggested Ben. "Domestic terrorist?"

Eddy nodded and winked, his fingers held like a gun as he pointed. "Good one, Ben."

"Let's just call him a prisoner for now," said Number One, tired.

Ben leaned his head on his fist. "Has anyone told him this kid Mac is alive?"

The four boys looked back and forth. None of them could answer, but Number Two said, "Mandy's ordered he's to be kept incommunicado."

Another round of looks was exchanged and they all slumped in their chairs.

"That shouldn't give me any pleasure," began Number One.

"Sure gives me a pang of satisfaction," said Ben.

Eddy smiled a smug and cocky smile. "Ditto."

They raised their bottles in a wordless salute and each took a drink.

"So what are we going to do with him?" wondered Number Two. "Mandy's asking for recommendations."

"I hear the North Pole is nice this time of year," quipped Eddy.

"Tempting," Number Two said. "I think she had something closer and more manageable in mind."

"We can't release him," said Number One. "And despite our feelings I sincerely doubt anyone is going to be willing to pass a death sentence at trial, given the situation he was in, let alone act as executioner. Face it, it's just not our style."

"So we keep him locked up until . . . we decide to deal with him. If we decide to deal with him," Ben added under his breath, sitting up straight again. "The question is, where?"

"What's wrong with right here?" asked Eddy. "The facility is in place already."

"Would you be keen on sharing the same roof as Bloo, Eddy?" Ben shook his head. "We can't do that. This is Dexter's home."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Mandy," said the deep, raspy, and unenthusiastic voice of Mrs. Warthog over the intercom, "there's a Mr. Mandark here to see you."

"Send him in. Hold all my calls."

"Right away."

Tall, skinny, gawky, and somewhat twisted, Mandark had a ways to go before he actually became imposing. Mandy supposed that with a decade or two of practice he'd eventually pull it off, sooner if he'd lose the shorts and suspenders. He swept into her office with a dramatic flair completely unlike the door-slamming, screaming drama she usually got from Dexter. It was an interesting change of focus. She hadn't dealt with Mandark very much since the war started. He tended to keep to himself as he obsessed over beating Dexter and mooning over DeeDee. He was at least as brilliant as Dexter in his own way, as single-minded, arrogant, and egotistical as his rival, too. The primary difference between the two boys was that Dexter was willing to put everything on the line for the Earth whereas Mandark always put his own interests first.

He stood before her desk, wrapped in his cape like some gigantic carrion bird. Seeing as how Mandy had hung out with the Grim Reaper for years, nothing could intimidate her, especially a geeky scarecrow in glasses.

"Mandy," he said by way of greeting.

"Mandark," she returned. "Take a seat."

He waited. He knew she wanted something and he was going to force her to say it.

"Please," she finally spat.

Satisfied, he sat down with a superior little smirk.

"So . . ." he drawled, enjoying himself. "How is Dexter doing?"

"He's recovering," she said evenly.

"What happened?"

"He's got an obsessed Fusion is what happened. You don't bounce right back from kidnapping and torture and mind-probes, but the doctors here at DexLabs say he'll improve rapidly now that the decompression sickness has been dealt with."

She watched him as she spoke, gauging his reaction. Mandark already knew the facts – with so many people sent on the rescue mission it was next to impossible to keep a lid on the details, especially since Dexter was so important to their side. Word had leaked out and she had simply issued a brief statement of events to quell as many rumors as she could.

_Bingo_, she thought as envy (predictably) flared up in his dark eyes. He was insanely jealous of Dexter, to a point of mania that actually hampered his own creative ability. He had been almost inconsolable until he found out he had a Fusion of his own running around wrecking havoc on Earth's Forces. With this particular incident his covetousness had only grown and he'd been tormenting himself with endless questions and scenarios – wasn't he worth kidnapping? Torturing? Mind-probing? He would have gladly endured worse than Dexter had (or so he believed) just to prove his merit in the eyes of their common enemy and his rival.

"DeeDee is recovering, too -"

"DeeDee? My DeeDee?" He was on his feet in a shot, alarmed and concerned for the love of his life. "What happened? Has she been hurt? Tell me!"

"You didn't hear?" Mandy wondered, feigning surprise and concern. It was time to play a trump card. "The Fusion kidnapped her to control Dexter."

He barely paid attention, too busy pacing and monologuing.

"Oh, my poor, brave, gloriously beautiful DeeDee! What you must have suffered and endured at the vile and unclean touch of those Fusion Mechs! Curses upon those alien beings for causing you a moment of fear! Oh, how I envy and despise them for the heaven of having your splendid self for days on end! Oh, to be the Mech that laid hold of you and -"

He broke off, abruptly remembering he had an audience, but Mandy didn't as much as blink. She didn't dare. She wanted something from him and so she bit her tongue.

"Excuse me."

With a swirl of his cape, Mandark turned his back on her and activated a communicator on his wrist. Mandy caught snatches of his hurried conversation.

"Twenty . . . no, thirty dozen . . . pink. From me, of course! Yes, with love. And devotion! Within the hour. Wait."

He looked at Mandy and demanded, "Is DeeDee home or here in DexLab medical?"

"Here," she replied, steeling her features not to smirk. "She'll probably stay until Dexter is released."

"DexLab HQ, then," he ordered, turning his back on her again and talking to his secretary. "Make it snappy."

Roses ordered, he adjusted his cape, wrapped himself in his dignity once again, and turned to face Mandy. As if nothing had happened, he strode back to his chair and sat down.

"She'd probably appreciate a visit," hinted Mandy.

He tensed, and given the chance she knew he would have bolted out of the office and raced straight to the medical ward.

"But first, we have a problem. I was hoping you'd be able to help us out."

The request did not roll off her tongue very easily. She was used to giving orders, not asking for things. Fortunately the effort it cost her was lost on Mandark.

Totally distracted, his mind going at warp speed formulating touching and romantic bedside scenes of DeeDee waking up in surprise and delight at his dashing presence and declaring her undying love for him, Mandark would have agreed to anything. Mandy, knowing full well that she was exploiting his foremost weakness, kept talking, kept exploiting, and dropped and excluded names without a hint of shame.

"Part of this incident with DeeDee being kidnapped involves an Imaginary Friend named Bloo. He betrayed DeeDee to the Fusion Dexter. We've got him prisoner, but we don't want DeeDee to come here and feel uncomfortable knowing he's here, in the same building."

"What about the DexCorp facilities?" he managed to ask, mentally pulling himself out of DeeDee's passionate embrace for a moment. With a little shake of his head he got back to the business of being an evil genius.

"No detention center. The only one we've got is here in DexLab HQ. See our dilemma? Doesn't make for a real homey atmosphere."

"An Imaginary Friend. Hmm . . ." This was something he might be able to use.

"We'd provide a KND security unit and cover the housing expenses, if you could hold the prisoner in Mandark Industries business park. You've got a detention center in your security department."

"I do," he said, thinking hard and fast. "I don't want the KND in there. I have my own security force. They'll be more than adequate to deal with one Imaginary Friend."

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. "We'll be checking him every shift change, then."

"I'd expect you to. What about the person that imagined him? I heard Foster's Home was Infected."

"It was. We have his friend. A kid named Mac."

"Will Mac be coming?"

She hadn't expected that, but she knew Mandark well enough that if he wanted something, she didn't want him to have it. "He'll be visiting a lot, I'm sure, but in the meantime he'll be staying here with the other refugees from Foster's."

The light glinted off of his glasses as he raised his head. "If it will please DeeDee, I'll do it."

"Good. My chief of security will contact yours. They can hammer out the details."

"So we have a deal?" he asked with a nasty smirk.

She returned the look. Neither of them was fooled for a moment by this show of civility and manners. This was the longest they'd ever managed to endure each other's presence. Neither made any attempt to shake on the bargain.

"Deal." Without looking away she keyed a button on her desk. "Mrs. Warthog, arrange for an escort to bring Mandark to medical and let DeeDee know he's on his way for a visit."

He nodded and swept out of the room. A little uneasy at the arrangement, Mandy sank back in her chair, staring off into middle space. She didn't like that Bloo would be held elsewhere, but Tennyson was right. Dexter's peace of mind was a lot more important than keeping the miserable little traitor under her thumb, much as she despised being in debt to Mandark. Dexter might be tough and stubborn and possessed of an intellect far beyond his years, but he was not unbreakable. He was going to have a hard enough time coming to terms with what happened to his laboratory. He didn't need to be worried about Bloo's presence in the facility he had built himself, for himself.

She thought about calling and warning Mandark to avoid trying to gloat over Dexter, but then she didn't want to deny the guards stationed outside Dexter's room the opportunity to shoot the obnoxious twit if he tried. It was a tough decision, one of many she'd made today, and in the end she did nothing. Mandark could learn his own lessons. If he wasn't smart enough to give Dexter a wide berth, he deserved everything he got.


	13. Give and Take

A/N My thanks to thanan for the Ed-iting on the previous chapter! You rock! And my great thanks to everyone that reviewed!

**Chapter Thirteen: Give and Take**

Pain. Darkness. Fear. He had woken up in this state before, time and again over the past few days, and always his senses had cleared to reveal that his reality was so much worse than his imaginings.

He kept still, perfectly still, wishing for some way to locate his captor without opening his eyes. The logical part of his mind - in other words the vast majority of it - told him it made no difference where the Fusion stood. When the agony came it would come at him from every direction, but some instinct made him want to keep his mimic in sight. His hearing was all but gone. Rapid decompression in the Fusion's torture chamber had burst both his ear drums that second day and his hearing had worsened each time the pressure had changed. The pain had been staggering, worse even than the ache in his lungs and the rapidly growing soreness in his joints. On dry land, he had the bends. He could barely think for the pain, and he wanted only to avoid the endless questions, the digging, the invasion of his thoughts and feelings and memories. There was no holding out for much longer. Had he spoken? Had he broken? Had he doomed Earth's Forces? He could not remember. Did he want to remember?

Probably the most disturbing aspect of this whole, nightmarish experience was the fact that his own double was doing this to him. To see his own face, his own expressions and gestures turned against him, hear his own accent threatening and enticing - that was the worst part.

Or almost the worst. That he might have been made to betray his world, his friends and family, everything he loved, was far, far worse.

If his pain was any measure of his resistance, though, then perhaps he had stood fast after all. Perhaps he had been as strong as the world needed him to be . . .

Then something cold and wet touched his lips, a light tracing across his mouth. There was a metallic taste on his tongue, triggering memories.

Dexter remembered.

And panicked.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

_He held the human's jaw in an iron grip, forcing Dexter to look at him. He ignored the blood and pain he caused as he looked hard into the eyes of his helpless captive. The whites of Dexter's eyes were a shocking red from broken blood vessels, as red as his doppleganger's glowing orbs. His blue irises stood out in lurid contrast. The boy wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but he knew that if he ignored the Ur-creature he'd get slapped. Besides, his hearing was so distorted by now that Dexter had to do his best to read the Fusion's lips to get what he was saying._

_"You call me a shadow, a thing without love or substance. Tell me, Dexter, can a shadow do this?"_

_He tightened his grip, wringing a small cry of pain from the boy genius. _

_"You deny me. Why? I am here. I am you!"_

_Dexter shook his head. The Fusion crouched before him in the small chamber. He seemed almost desperate to understand this emotion that Dexter wasn't certain he was capable of recognizing or even experiencing. The issue consumed him - why was he so focused on love and ignoring the wealth of information Dexter represented? He could not grasp the Fusion's fascination. _

_"How can I know what love is unless you show me?"_

_"I have . . . shown you." He struggled to breathe. "Everything . . . I have done . . . is for love. For Earth . . . my friends . . . my sister."_

_"So love is pain?"_

_He sighed, blood on his lips, dread in his eyes. "No. But it makes this pain . . . worthwhile."_

_"If you do not give me what I ask I will simply take it."_

_"You can only . . . give love," he rasped, feeling himself fading. The sensation was almost welcome at this point. "Not take it."_

_The Fusion's eyes narrowed. He seemed as interested in Dexter's suffering as in their conversation. This new statement was something of a challenge for his comprehension. Reaching out, he delicately wiped the blood from Dexter's lips with one finger, all the while staring directly into his counterpart's eyes. His touch was cold, unclean, revolting. He looked at the smear of red on his green glove, and then focused on his twin. _

_"Can't I?" He smiled dark and wicked, and reached out again to grasp the boy's face in an iron hold. "And how will you stop me when you're dead, Dexter?"_

_Appalled, Dexter twisted away as he tried to avoid the Ur-Dexter's touch, falling to his side on the floor of the chamber in renewed panic. The Fusion rose, looming over him, and at Dexter's futile effort to escape his presence, he laughed. Dexter felt himself being lifted by the front of his lab coat and he was slammed against the wall. He barely felt anything - it was more motion and impact than any real pain. Stunned, his head swimming and his body too weak to resist, he opened his eyes to find his double's face an inch from his own, so close that he was almost in focus. The stench of Fusion Matter overwhelmed the smell of blood. The red eyes glowed with unnatural power and he leered at the pathetic and helpless life he held in both hands._

_"Try and stop me now."_

_He could not._

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

He gasped, or at least he tried to. His throat was too dry, too raw to produce anything other than a soft, whining sound that his own ears could not detect. He tried to see, strained to hear, fought to twist away from the sick and evil copy of himself. He knew if he could open his eyes he'd see only dull green skin and eyes like burning coals sneering down at him again.

To his terror he could not move freely. His arms were bound, his legs fouled. All his senses were stifled. He was still a prisoner. The Fusion still had him. Dexter writhed and pulled at the restraints regardless of the pain that shot through him. Every joint ached and protested the sudden movement, and dizziness seized him even though he had not succeeded in doing more than struggle and toss.

He was going to die. He knew that full well. The Ur-Dexter was going to kill him. Without the desired information about the Omnitrix, there was little reason to keep him alive. Frightening a prospect though it may be, he was not going to die without fighting to the end. He refused to give his life. It would have to be taken from him.

Suddenly his right arm was free. He swung and hit something. No effort was made to return the strike or restrain him. Instead his left arm was also loosened. Struggling to sit up, he sensed a presence very near by and he tried to twist away. Before he could escape, he was swept into a gentle embrace, held tight and close. He could feel arms across his back, the press of fabric against his skin. Dexter fought to get away, panicked anew, the last memory of the Fusion and his distorted quest for love still so vivid and horrifying in his mind.

And then he realized that whoever was holding him so carefully was breathing. Long, slow breaths, in and out. That was all. He could feel ribs expand, feel a faint exhale against his exposed skin, feel the warmth of another human being. The person just held him, trying to calm him, not forcing him to do anything but be still. They made no move, but neither did they relax their hold. Gradually, reluctantly he responded, seeing nothing for it since he lacked the strength to free himself. He tried to match his respiration to theirs but could not sustain a long breath without coughing violently. The fit triggered a fresh wave of pain that sapped the last of his resistance. All the while, the person just held him, rocking ever so slightly with each breath, a slow, smooth motion as lulling as waves on the sea. His exhausted body gave in, and Dexter sank down against the warmth and security of the person holding him, beaten not by strength or pain, but by kindness.

The person shifted, and one arm released him. A moment later Dexter's wrist was lifted in a loose hold. He tensed and tried to pull away, but the person only set his hand atop an unmistakable device. He traced the shape, recognized the design . . .

The Omnitrix.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

It was a long time before Dexter calmed down and his panic faded. His reaction to Ben had been as heartbreaking as it had been pathetic, for he was in no condition to control his emotions and too weak even to try. Trembling, gasping, almost hyperventilating, he clamped down the Omnitrix with all his strength like a drowning person holds on to a lifeline. Eventually his hold slacked slightly and he slumped down, deadweight against Ben. He might have cried, but Ben didn't even check. It made no difference, so long as Dexter realized that he was safe. Ben Tennyson had seen and done enough in this war not to think any less of his friend for tears, especailly after facing Dexter's dark and evil doppleganger. He'd fought the Fusion for a few minutes. Dexter had been fighting him for days.

"Is he asleep?" Number Seventy-Seven asked softly.

Ben looked down at the scrawny figure sprawled across and on him. "I think so."

"Whew. Okay. Well. No more spoon-feeding him water." The medico dumped out the offending liquid that had triggered the anxiety attack. With Dexter being on oxygen for so long it was a constant battle to keep his throat from drying out. "He should be able to start drinking through a straw tomorrow anyway. This is the most alert he's been. Too bad he panicked. I'm glad you were here," he finished with a wry look.

"Me too. I told you the restraints were not a good idea, Seventy-Seven."

"Please. Both his inner ears and his sinuses are shot and I've had to cauterize the blood vessels in his nose twice. If he sneezes again he may need surgery. I can hardly have him wandering around the halls."

"Wandering? He probably can't even stand up straight."

"All the more reason. You okay? He walloped you pretty good."

Ben snorted. "For Dexter. Yeah, I'm okay. Can you take those bandages off and just keep the room dark? I doubt he'll freak quite so much if he can see where he is."

"I'd rather leave them on, but you're right. Here, let me give you a hand. Lay him down again."

Between them they freed Ben, easing Dexter to a comfortable position on the bed and covering him warmly.

"How long before he can hear and talk?" wondered Ben. He was untangling the intravenous tube from around Dexter's arm when the younger boy's hand closed over the Omnitrix again. He tried to shift away but Dexter would not be shaken off, and eventually Ben just gave up the fight and relinquished his left arm.

Seventy-Seven smiled at his dilemma. "His ears should heal in two or three weeks. I expect partial hearing to come back faster than that. His eyes should be back to normal by then, too. His throat is going to be the biggest problem now that the decompression sickness has been dealt with."

"How did that go? Sorry I couldn't help you there. Mandy kinda recruited me to help deal with . . . an issue."

The KND doctor knew better than to press for details, well aware of what had occupied Tennyson's time once they got back from Pittsburgh. "It went smoothly. He was in and out of decompression in less than a day and he responded very well to the initial oxygen therapy. Now it's just a matter of time and rest. And speaking of time, I have to go check on Number 431."

"How is she?"

"She'll be fine. I'm discharging her tomorrow."

"I'll swing by for a visit as soon as I can get out of this death grip."

"She'd like that. You'll stay here?"

"Yeah, DeeDee's due in at seven. She can take over for me."

"I'll see you later, then. Try to get some rest. I'll have a nurse remove those bandages."

The doctor left, closing the door softly behind him. Moving carefully so his did not dislodge Dexter's hold on his wrist, Ben snagged the nearest chair with his foot and pulled it over to the bed. He settled in, looking forward to the long, boring vigil that lay ahead. He didn't mind. No matter what, with his friend alive and safe, it was going to be a good night.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

Darkness. Pain. Warmth. Dexter blinked sleepily, wondering what had roused him, realizing he _could_ blink now, and see to an extent. He ached from his hair to his toes and his ears and throat were afire, but it did not seem quite as bad as the last time he had woken up. Speech was impossible, that much he could tell – his throat was perfectly dry and completely raw. He gazed into the shadows, remembering. No memories were triggered, no panic ensued; he simply remembered what had brought him to this point. There were so many memories to sift through. It would take him ages to fully grasp everything that had happened to him . . . and that had been done to him. Well. He would face it and deal with it in his own time. Right now he simply wanted to find out about his surroundings and glory in being warm again. He thought back on the previous time he'd been aware and wondered if Ben was there in the room now or if he was alone. Had it been Ben that he'd hit? Most likely his friend would not be offended, just amused that he had tried to fight.

The room was a shadowy blur, but he was able to gather that he was in a hospital. Something about the place was familiar, and gradually he concluded that he had to be in the medical ward at DexLab headquarters. That knowledge brought immense relief. He rested his head back, feeling the soft pillow beneath him. He'd forgotten what it was like to be comfortable. Pain and fear had temporarily chased away any sense of security and ease that he had possessed. With time and effort, he hoped he would regain them.

He closed his eyes, taking stock of himself. He was terribly hungry. That was probably a good thing. He had no notion of when he had eaten last. His nose was tender from where a cannula fed him oxygen. That was annoying. He could feel pricks of pain against the back of either hand and he knew that he was on multiple intravenous tubes. That was probably a necessity.

His joints – especially his shoulders and knees – hurt with lingering, remembered pain, and his skin had a faint tingling sensation. So. He had been treated for decompression sickness. That was welcome news. He hadn't told DeeDee what had been done to him because he knew that given their situation back in that cold cell there was nothing she could do to help him. There had been no sense in frightening her more than she'd already been. His physical condition then and now came as little surprise. There was only so much change in atmospheric pressure a body could take and he had taken quite enough for a lifetime.

Experimentally he drew a deep breath. At least he tried to draw a deep breath. The resulting coughing fit reminded him exactly how sore he really was and how badly he'd been hurt. No more deep breaths . . .

A shift in the shadows and a light touch on the blankets drew his attention and he turned his head to see who was there. DeeDee, a dusky pink and gold haze, was seated beside his bed. Her head rested on her hands and she held it angled to the side so that they could look at one another straight on. Her blond hair was bright even in the twilit room, and through his blurred vision he could make out her smile. She was talking rapidly and probably had been at it from the time he'd opened his eyes, but he heard just faint, distorted sounds of her high-pitched voice.

He listened and watched, not caring if she made any sense. She rarely made sense to him, period. Seeing that she had his full attention, she became excited and more animated, gesturing for added emphasis in her story. He smiled faintly, and she paused in her dramatic narrative to return the smile. It struck him quite suddenly that she was a pretty thing despite her lack of intellect. She was a good person, and he was grateful beyond telling that she was his sister.

Mindful of the intravenous connection, Dexter carefully snaked his hand free of the covers. Immediately DeeDee took his hand in hers and he gave her fingers a squeeze, trying to convey what he was incapable of saying aloud. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, then just settled back to gaze at her little brother. Dexter returned the look fondly, knowing how much he owed her.

But for DeeDee, he never would have survived.

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

DeeDee was still talking - reading him cards and letters from a stack on the table, not a word of which sank in - for what felt like hours later when the door opened to admit two people. Seeing it was not Number Seventy-Seven come to poke and prod and annoy him again, Dexter gingerly sat up. DeeDee broke off from her endless gabbing long enough to help him. As she did so she recalled his glasses, and producing them from her pocket, she put them in his hand. Dexter could not suppress a little grumble (silent though it may be) that she had left him squinting this whole time she'd been chattering like a squirrel.

With a frustrated move he slipped the cannula from off his face so that he could wear them comfortably. The world came into abrupt focus and he blinked, sighing in relief to be able to see.

Mandy stood at the foot of the bed and Ben brought up the rear. The commander of Earth's Combined Forces was her usual unsmiling self, though she looked at Dexter with an air of satisfaction. Behind her, Ben was smiling to see his friend and playing fetch-and-carry for Mandy. He immediately handed Dexter one of the two compact computers he had in his hands. He smiled as Dexter seized upon it and set to work.

Instantly it was apparent that Dexter had them grossly outclassed when it came to typing. He had almost a full page of questions written and sent before Ben managed to pull over a table and open his own computer. The older boy gaped in astonishment at the details being demanded of him as his screen filled with rapid-fire queries. Some of those questions would take hours to answer.

Mandy glanced over, saw what was happening, and came to the rescue. It was just a simple communications device, thrown together by Number Two so that they could converse with Dexter without resorting to writing. At this speed Dexter was going to overload the thing.

"Oh, for the love of-"

She reached over and closed the computer right on Dexter's fingers. He snatched his hands away, offended but not surprised at her conduct. They glared so hard at one another that DeeDee tittered and Ben fought not to laugh out loud. Mandy leaned close, enunciating each word so he could read her lips.

"Slow. Down. Dexter."

She elbowed Ben out of the way and set herself before the other computer and typed (deliberately taking her time) before she gestured that he could look. He opened the computer and read,

_I'll get you all the reports. You can grill Tennyson after that._

"Hey!" exclaimed Ben, reading over her shoulder.

Dexter nodded in agreement and Ben just gave up the fight.

_How do you feel?_

_Alive. Hungry. Bored. Everything hurts._

_No kidding. Start a report. I want as much detail as you can remember. Take your time and make it exact. _

_Will do. Is Computress functioning?_

_Yeah, at a basic command function level. I want one._

_Computress was _not_ in the lease, Mandy._

She smirked. He was, of course, quite correct . . . for now. Another round of even dirtier looks was exchanged, each of them giving as good as they took. Clearly Dexter knew what she was thinking as the battle lines were drawn in the sand.

"They do this a lot?" wondered Ben, thoroughly entertained. He hadn't seen such world-class glaring since Mandy had issued her arrest order if Dexter tried to step outside just as he was trying to step outside.

"All the time," whispered DeeDee, and giggled.


	14. Balance and Control

**Chapter Fourteen: Balance and Control**

In the end Mandy didn't have to clap her null-void blaster to Number Seventy-Seven's head to get him to release Dexter for an hour or two, but she was forced to come very close to such a method of persuasion. Even after ten days of recovery the medico was reluctant to let Dexter walk very far, citing ongoing inner ear problems leading to balance issues. When he found out that Mandy intended to take his impatient patient down to the laboratory, the young doctor almost nixed the trip until Ben volunteered to tag along and carry Dexter back if he 'became more unbalanced.' Dexter, who had only part of his hearing back and could communicate only in whispers, did not catch Ben's comment. He was clearly chomping at the bit to get out of the medical ward. Seventy-Seven relented only because he knew it would make Dexter appreciate being in here all the more.

His knees almost buckled in the elevator as it dropped swiftly downwards, but Ben quietly caught him by the elbows and they all pointedly ignored the moment of weakness. When the doors opened again Dexter hesitated, clearly apprehensive about seeing what had been done to his laboratory. Steeling himself, he exited the elevator and followed them down the hall.

Only the blast doors had been replaced, and that out of necessity. All the debris had been cleared away, all traces of laser fire and Fusion Matter removed, the damaged equipment sorted and laid out neatly for repair, but nothing more. Dexter walked slowly through the different sections of the laboratory, mentally noting what could and couldn't be salvaged and assessing the extent of the damage wrought by the Fusion Mechs. On the surface he seemed calm, but his companions could tell he was deeply agitated by the savage destruction of so much of his work, and he only glanced swiftly at the wrecked Megabot prototype before turning away. At least it had been completed and was about to go into production, so it could be quickly replaced by the first unit off the line. It was still distressing to see years of labor and research demolished, but given that the Mechs had practically melted this corner of the laboratory with their lasers in order to destroy the suit gave him a faint glimmer of pleasure.

Mandy waited by his work station, but Ben trailed a few steps behind his friend as he wandered about. Dexter's hands were clasped behind his back in his usual stance for contemplation, and the older boy could not help but note how tightly they were clenched.

Finally he came to the center of the lab where DeeDee had danced and teased him. Mandy joined them as they gazed at the ragged, gaping hole in the floor. It looked like the maw of some strange beast, and Dexter faced the monster that had swallowed him whole. What little color he had gained drained from his face, leaving him ashen and strained, but after a few minutes he seemed to recover somewhat.

"I didn't want them to repair anything until you had a chance to see it," Mandy said loudly enough for him to hear.

Dexter nodded in appreciation, staring at the abyss that plunged down into darkness. Leaning close to Mandy so he needn't repeat himself, Dexter asked in a hoarse whisper, "Where does this lead to?"

"Computress, project the map of this tunnel," called Mandy.

Immediately a 3-D image appeared at eye level showing the long, deep excavation cut right through the bedrock. Dexter's bloodshot eyes, not quite back to normal yet, narrowed sharply behind his glasses as he studied the route the Mechs had hewn out to reach his laboratory from below. Mandy filled in the details, pointing to the illuminated tunnel.

"It's just less than five miles long," she said. "It starts here, at the quarry, goes under our security parameter, beneath the Secure Zone by Downtown, and ends up directly under your lab. We don't have any idea how long it took them to make this, but we're figuring your evil twin created some specialized kind of drilling Mech to tunnel it out. We can't figure any other way they could have managed it. We would have noticed blasting or Infection."

"Secure?" he wondered, glancing at the hole.

"KND patrols are holding it at the quarry and they've sealed off the entrance," said Ben. He was watching Dexter, but not for any sign of exhaustion. His interest lay in his friend's reaction. Dexter went back to studying the image of the tunnel.

"Well?" asked Mandy before Ben could. They leaned close to catch his whispered reply.

"Much as I hate to say it, I think it would be wise to keep this intact. It may prove useful some day."

"I was thinking the same thing," Mandy agreed, nodding as she glared at the pit.

"_I _will secure it once I get back to work," Dexter promised, and they knew that by the time he was done a gnat wouldn't be able to fly past it undetected.

Ben's expression was worried. "You gonna be okay to work down here again?"

There was a long pause before Dexter slowly nodded. "Yes," he answered softly, an edge to his rough voice. He swallowed and grimaced at the pain the motion caused.

"Alone?"

"I will have Computress, as always, and I'm sure Billy and DeeDee will break in and annoy me."

There was something akin to concern in Mandy's voice as she said, "I'd like to say take your time about getting back to work . . ."

Again, he nodded. "But you can't. I understand."

"I need you working, but I need you back to yourself, too," she said, exchanging a look with Tennyson. "Whatever you decide you want to do, let me know. Whatever it takes to keep you safe, just do it and tell me after. Got it?"

"I will make it my top priority."

"Good. I'll make it an order if I have to."

Dexter gave her a little smile. She had come dangerously close to being humorous.

"Guess you'll have to renovate," reasoned Ben, looking around at the facility.

The younger boy sighed. "I did that last year," he said, and then raised his eyes and addressed the empty space. "Computress," he rasped softly, "recognize Dexter. Transfer command back to me, command code Juno one, two, two, three, post invasion protocol, restore."

"Command transferred. Welcome home, Dexter," said the computer.

"I will work on restoring your memory as soon as the lab is fully secured," he promised, gazing at the damage done to the super computer's main unit. It had taken him years to perfect Computress. He would have to check every system and function. Weeks of work, even if he could get Professor Utonium to help. How far had his doppleganger set them behind? He caught Mandy's angry expression and made an annoyed gesture of inquiry, as much to say, _'Now what?'_

She folded her arms. "How come I don't have a computer like that?"

Glad for the distraction, Dexter managed to glower and look superior at the same time. "I told you. Computress was _not_ in the lease."

"Wish I'd known. It was a mighty handy thing to have while you were away."

"Isn't she, though? But you won't let me leave, so you don't have to worry about it."

They exchanged a long, hard look. Ben broke the tension by ducking his head as he tried not to laugh aloud, and finally Dexter relented.

"Fine. Fine! I will give you the same basic access as before."

She nodded in satisfaction. "It's all I want."

He pointed at her imperiously, his voice little more than a thin, savage hiss. "Basic command and communication functions. Nothing more! And do not even _think_ about trying to access any of her higher functions or my records!"

"I don't know how and I wouldn't want to," she snapped. "Keep your math homework, Brainiac, I've got more important things to do."

Dexter had that look in his eye that said he was about to inform Mandy of exactly how right she was and how incapable she was of fathoming the brilliance behind Computress and his own staggering genius when a wave of dizziness abruptly hit him and he felt himself go pale. He opened his mouth to speak but produced only a choking sound, having pushed himself too far with that outburst. He wavered, losing his balance where he stood. Ben and Mandy were both moving to catch him as he crumbled and together they saved him from hitting the floor, easing him down. So light-headed and weak was he that Dexter couldn't even sit up for long. At Ben's urging he lay down, curling up on the cold floor to let the dizziness pass, his head pillowed on his friend's jacket. They sat beside him, Ben close by, Mandy keeping her distance and her silence as Dexter tried to restore his focus. They knew what was coming and he knew that they would not tell Seventy-Seven about this episode. It was one among many reactions to having been captured and tortured, things he had to deal with as they came. Dexter just closed his eyes and kept still, uncertain of how much of this spell was physical and how much was emotional and not certain why it mattered to him that he should know.

He put a trembling hand to his head, pulling off his glasses to rub his eyes (carefully, lest he disturb the half-healed burns on his temples) and shield them from the glaring lights. His head was pounding. If he didn't stop panting, he knew he'd hyperventilate, and his skin was clammy with sweat. He drew a deep breath and held it, trying hard not to be overwhelmed, but it was more than one child could bear and his breath escaped in a shuddering sigh. For a long while they stayed clustered together on the floor of the laboratory, three warriors as different from one another as it was possible to be, but united by their common cause and the dependence upon one another. When Dexter was finally able to stand again, neither of his companions said a word about his red-rimmed eyes or the traces of tears on his face.

****

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

Three days later Ben Tennyson returned to the front. Fighting had erupted in the Rocky Mountain Range along the Canadian border and the Royal Canadian branch of the KND were screaming for aid. A new variety of flying Mech made its debut in the fight and Earth's Combined Forces scrambled to respond. Mandy reluctantly dispatched him along with the team she was sending, with additional orders not to stick around once they had dealt with the Mechs.

On Mandy's order he had spent those three days baby sitting Dexter, making him eat, and preventing him from wearing himself out completely. Ben was amazed at the amount of work Dexter got done, and the speed at which he worked was even more astounding. By the end of the first day he had the renovation plans for the laboratory completed. Work orders to his own company's production facilities were issued the next day and by the afternoon there were DexCorp employees swarming through headquarters, much to the chagrin of Security. The KND complaints fell on deaf ears - Mandy didn't care of Dexter called in an entire army of tech geeks, so long as he got back to work as quickly as possible.

Ben10 wasn't fooled for a moment. If he could not control his reactions, Dexter was trying very hard to control his actions. He knew Dexter threw himself full-bore into the project in order to avoid another breakdown. Ben didn't, couldn't blame him, but he also knew Dexter didn't possess the strength to keep this pace up for very long. Something would give and he knew it would be his friend.

Having once tasted freedom, Dexter didn't even bother seeking his doctor's permission to leave medical, he just left with Ben to go check on the laboratory. Leaving Dexter to hobnob with his foreman in charge, Ben wandered around and let himself be amazed at the amount of work getting done in record time. The workers from DexCorp fully understood the need to get their boss and his facility up and running again. Talking to a few techs that were struggling to move a generator (and finally converting to Big Chill to move it for them), Ben was mildly surprised and very pleased to hear them talk about Dexter with equal amounts of admiration and respect. The consensus was that while a very demanding employer, he was also very generous. Any job associated with the DexTech industry was considered a mark of prestige, and even the smartest of them had trouble keeping up with his genius.

The third day was spent back in medical under the same set of security guards Number Seventy-Seven had sent after them the previous afternoon. Ben suspected Dexter wasn't quite up to the demands he was putting on himself because he didn't even put up a token argument when the guards arrived in the lab, he just let himself be hauled back to his hospital room. Ordered not to work, move, talk, or think by the irate medico, Dexter had placed one call to his lawyers and then gave himself over to spending the day with his friend, a rare enough event in both their lives that they almost didn't know what to do with it. Things were fine until Dexter sneezed. The ensuing nosebleed was bad enough that Seventy-Seven came in on his day off to cauterize the broken blood vessels. Miserable beyond telling, his good mood spoiled by this renewal of his Fusion's abuses, Dexter fell completely silent and morose.

Ben wisely let him stew for a while, and then went and fetched them something to drink. Handing over the can of soda and the obligatory straw, the older boy sank into his usual chair, gazing at his friend. Finally Dexter sighed and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak.

He leaned his elbows on his knees, looking straight into those eyes that were still a horrible mix of red, white, and blue. "Way I see it, Dex, you can do one of two things: You can let this beat you and then that twisted puke will win, or you can get mad and fight back. I can't talk for you, but personally I'm mad and I plan on staying that way." He smiled faintly, saluting with his drink. "You're the only one who can decide who won and who lost this round. I don't think I need to tell you that you've got my vote."

Dexter listened with his fullest attention. It struck him that Ben could see the situation with far greater clarity than he could right now. He was at a crossroad, and his friend had just saved him from getting hopelessly lost.

****

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"What the heck are you doing up? It's . . . yick. It's four in the morning!"

"Almost. Will you put that stupid watch on your other wrist? I'm sick of fixing it. And I'm saying good-bye to you, what does it look like?"

"Actually, it looks like someone slugged you, Dex."

"Sneeze, slug - it's all the same."

"You're so going to have Number Seventy-Seven on your case."

"Like he won't be on it anyway?"

"Good point. You gonna be okay?"

"Yes. I've taken your advice to heart."

"Good. I've seen you mad. It's scary. Planet Fusion won't know what hit it."

"Thank you. You're going to Alberta?"

"Yeah. The Royal Canadian KND are getting hammered just outside of Banff. We're a lot closer than Ottawa and we have more reserves than Vancouver, though Edmonton is sending some troops to help."

"Be on your guard, Ben. My Fusion double is . . ."

"Crazy? Obsessed? Rabid?"

"To put it nicely."

"You be careful, too. Don't over do it, kiddo."

"I'll try. I never thanked you."

"What makes you think you have to?"

"Nothing. But nonetheless, thank you for saving my life . . . and I suppose DeeDee's as well."

"You're welcome. I'll send you a bill."

"Don't bother. However much it is, your watch repairs will come out to much more. My time is very valuable."

"So I've heard."

"I . . . I do have one request to make of you."

"Fire away."

"Please . . . _please,_ I'm begging you_ -_ don't ever let Mandark find out you did mouth-to-mouth on me."

"Don't worry, pal, the only people that know can't talk about it, so that little fact is going with me to the grave."

"_Thank_ you. Be safe, Ben."

"You too."

****

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Dex-ter!"

He drew a deep breath and held it, trying not to explode at the sound of the squeaky, slightly distorted voice ringing in his ears. This was the third week since he had been discharged from the medical ward. His hearing was mostly restored, his eyes were almost cleared up, but he still could not speak loudly or for very long. The burns on his face were healing, though it would be a long time before the scars faded. He was prone to eye fatigue and headaches, too, which Seventy-Seven assured him would lessen as his health improved. It couldn't happen soon enough for Dexter, who wanted to do nothing but resume his previous schedule of nonstop work.

His wounds were healing, the ones on his body mending far faster than the ones on his psyche. Time, work, and the support of his small circle of friends were the cure.

"Oh, Dex-ter!"

He spun in his chair, making sure DeeDee could see him as he mouthed, _'WHAT?'_ at her with a glare of sheer annoyance. He was busy and was in no mood to be interrupted.

His older sister grinned at him as she crossed the floor. She must have come straight here from her dance lesson because she was wearing a tutu that made her look like some weird subspecies of sugarplum fairy. In her hands she carried a tray from the dining hall that held a covered dish. She dropped it right on top of the calculations he was working on, shoving his work aside so that half of it cascaded to the floor. He let out a squeak and tried to dive after his paperwork, but she was right in the way.

"I brought you something good to eat!"

In vain he pined for the pages under her ballerina slippers, and he looked at the tray.

"I'm not hungry," he said, the response an automatic one.

"You're going to want to eat _this_," she sang and plopped her crinoline-bedecked behind right down onto his desk. She leaned back, well pleased with herself and her present, and felt something move behind her as her weight flipped several levers. "Oops!"

"DeeDee! Noooo!"

He scrambled to reset the defensive system she'd just activated, then whirled on her in fury, winding up to erupt.

She clasped her hands, waiting in breathless expectation for her little brother to shout at her and order her out of his laboratory. He paused, finger raised, mouth open, realizing that this was the first time in over a month that she had managed to make him lose his temper. DeeDee grinned in delight and anticipation.

"Go ahead and yell, Dexter. Or just whisper real loud. I can take it."

He let his breath out, defeated, and chuckled instead. "No. I won't yell. But I will enjoy the fact that I want to."

DeeDee laughed, and before he could dodge she kissed his cheek and bounced to her big feet. "Eat your snack!"

With a giggle she danced out of the lab. He gathered up his paperwork and tossed it onto the work station beside the tray. He stared at the domed plate, then curiosity got the better of him and he lifted the lid.

Steamed broccoli.

Dexter found himself laughing out loud, and with a grin he picked up a piece. It was just the thing. Really now, who would have guessed that his sister could be so clever?


	15. Sound and Fury

**Epilogue: Sound and Fury**

Depending on how you looked at it, the hour was either very late or very early. Since she had been up since before five in the morning, for Mandy it was very late. Her body was craving a shower and something hot to drink before she turned in. She was making her way to her quarters to get some much needed rest and she was looking forward to being able to sleep in a bit the following morning.

The halls were nearly deserted, and so she was a little surprised and perplexed to hear music as she crossed the atrium of DexLab Headquarters. Mandy paused, listening. Someone was playing the piano. She knew there was an antique baby grand piano on the first floor, in the lounge that doubled as a lecture hall and movie theater. Her curiosity piqued, Mandy changed direction.

The door to the hall was slightly ajar and she paused to listen to the music filling the room. No fan of classical music, Mandy did not know the melody or the composer, but it seemed to her very well played. It was a strong, powerful, complex piece, like a thunder storm on the horizon. She slipped inside the hall, and as her eyes adjusted to the darkness she let herself be surprised when she realized it was Dexter at the keyboard.

The purple gloves and lab coat had been cast aside and he was completely engrossed in playing. She recognized this level of concentration in him and she knew there was no disturbing him until he was done, so she took a seat on one of the couches and sat back to listen. Even though they lived and worked in the same building, Mandy had not seen Dexter in almost a week, though he sent her regular updates on his research and she had Computress keep track to be sure he remembered to eat. He rarely ventured this far from his laboratory. She watched him now, trying to gauge his condition. Playing the piano was apparently quite a physical workout, and she realized that for him to do so his hearing must be mostly if not all restored and his joints must not ache anymore. He was back to being a recluse, too, which since it was normal for him, Mandy supposed was a good sign.

The music wound up to a triumphant, almost ecstatic climax and then the last note faded away. He sat still for a few minutes, catching his breath and flexing his fingers to work out any lingering stiffness. Carefully he closed the cover on the keys before he scooped up his lab coat and gloves. Dexter turned and stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted her, seeming almost embarrassed at having been caught indulging himself.

"That was the 1919 version of Igor Stravinsky's _Firebird Suite_," he offered, donning the white coat and not quite meeting her eye. Somehow his Russian accent made the names even more exotic-sounding to her ears, and his voice still had a husky edge to it from the injuries to his throat and larynx. He gestured at the antique piano. "The keyboard in my laboratory was destroyed. I haven't replaced it yet."

"Didn't know you played," Mandy replied.

"It was my mother's idea." Her resident mad scientist shrugged, climbing the few steps to join her. "I took lessons for a little while. My problem is a lack of expression. I simply play what's written without incorporating any emotion."

She realized only now that he had no sheet music. He had played the whole thing from memory. Why wasn't she surprised that a handful of lessons would render him a concert pianist? "Most people wouldn't see that as a problem. Sounded decent to me."

He dropped into a chair and worked at pulling on his purple gloves. "I just see music as another application of math. I drove my piano teacher up a wall, especially when I reduced Bach to a three-page calculation. She didn't appreciate that, but I was pleased."

"Fancy you driving anyone out of their minds."

He huffed a small laugh. They were silent for a few minutes, both of them exhausted but too weary to move. Finally Dexter hung his head back and softly asked,

"You got my last report?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry I keep -"

She held up her hand to silence him. "Don't apologize. Just keep revising your reports when you remember stuff. Too much happened for you to remember it all at once. I get that, Dexter."

He leaned his elbows on his knees with a sigh. "I want these revisions kept confidential, Mandy."

She lifted her blonde head to give him a narrow-eyed look, offended at the unspoken suggestion that she might ever break a confidence. She may be manipulative and a tyrant, but that did not mean she would break her word or do anything to expose him. She needed him too badly and besides, Dexter had sacrificed enough of his dignity writing the reports in the first place. Such painful honesty deserved every bit of protection she could offer. Woe betide the person that spread rumor or said anything against him – Mandy would bury them too deeply ever to be found.

"_All_ your reports are confidential and top secret, Einstein._ Maybe_ three people ever see them and the first idiot that talks is going to find himself on a year-long mission to Antarctica." A frown creased her face. "So you're pretty sure that Fusion of yours didn't pick up on our defenses and weapons?"

"I don't think he learned nearly as much as he could have," admitted Dexter, removing his glasses and closing his eyes. He had a headache just thinking about the mind probes, and he wanted to shudder at the notion of the Fusion being _his_. His memory of his captivity, faulty for a while, was coming back in spurts. He was remembering odd details here and there and he had been updating the reports he'd submitted every time something occurred to him. "He didn't seem to care so much about our organization. He seemed . . . obsessed not only with the Omnitrix, but with the concept of emotions. He . . . he wanted to understand love. Those were the memories he concentrated on the most."

Mandy frowned. "Sounds pretty unstable for a Fusion."

"Or more advanced than the others. We know they have basic emotions, but usually they're negative."

She snorted. "Love's a negative emotion in my book. It's messy and inconvenient, just like a nose. I'm a bit more concerned about it being so obsessed with _you_ and its feelings, frankly."

"Yes, how _did _I get so lucky?" he returned, not about to touch on her opinion of love.

"Number Five said those Mechs back at that steel mill were doing their best to haul your sister off without hurting her. It must have been on your Fusion's orders since they were trying to kill everyone else."

Dexter looked away, trying not to think of what that meant or what could have happened to his sister. He had relayed everything he could remember of the conversations with his captor, every action and abuse no matter how painful or degrading it might be. It could not be a coincidence that the Ur-Dexter had tried to keep DeeDee. Not after his desperate attempts to comprehend what motivated Dexter to endure such pain and humiliation.

As if she could read his thoughts, Mandy gave him a long, keen stare. "I've said it before, I'll say it again - Fuse is gunning for you big time, pal. Watch your back. And just for the record, you weren't lucky this round."

"Oh? What do you call it then, Commander?" He blinked at the blur that was Mandy.

"I call it being smarter than the enemy. Activating the Invasion Protocol, catching Bloo, your glasses, not analyzing the Omnitrix – very smart, Dexter."

"Thank you."

Her gaze never wavered and her voice was stern. "Stay smart. That's a direct order."

Dexter smiled a bit as he put his glasses on again and promised, "I will do my best."

**OoOoOoOoOoOoO**

The crater was huge and deep, an unnatural scar on the face of the devastated land. He climbed down its jagged edge, leaping lightly from ledge to ledge. Since he could not be injured, nor was he afraid of heights or falling, he picked up his pace without a thought to his own safety. His ankle turned as he landed and was instantly healed. He paid it no mind. Very soon he would be next to invulnerable.

Deeper, deeper he moved. The surface was growing flatter and less rough, making his going easier. The ground was muddy, the last dregs of the Infection mixed with the exposed earth to make a foul, dark muck that clung to his feet as he made his way to the center of the crater that had once housed the steel mill, river valley, and part of the Allegheny Mountain Range. It was all gone - consumed, digested, refined by the Infection he had so carefully engineered and deliberately released.

Despite his failure to gain knowledge of the Omnitrix, the Ur-Dexter was not displeased with the results of his attack on Earth Force's Headquarters and his time spent with his human counterpart. He had learned a great deal of what he wanted to know. Moreover, his battle with Ben Tennyson had been most profitable – not only had he been given a chance to study an Aerophibian, but he had collected some of its DNA when he had laid hold of its tail. He would use this blueprint to make a Fusion version of the alien. With this new strain of Fusion Matter that he had developed, the Fusion Jetray would be loyal and obedient to him and him alone, not Fuse.

The muck grew deeper as he came nearer to the heart of the pit he had created, reaching all the way to his knees. The smell didn't affect him, nor did the acrid fumes the Fusion Matter by-product gave off.

Dexter. As he picked his way through the lake of murky liquid, he thought back on his interaction with the human, _his_ human. A strange glimmer of satisfaction filled the Fusion's glowing red eyes at the knowledge that Dexter had most likely survived despite all attempts to kill him. A new sensation stirred in him at this thought. He did not know enough about his own feelings yet to recognize pleasure, and he realized that ultimately he did not really want to destroy Dexter after all. What he wanted, rather, mastery over him. Dexter's endurance and willpower were astounding, and the Ur-Dexter could see the source of his own determination, patterned after that of the boy genius. Fascinating, really, to what ends mere feelings would drive these humans. His cruelty had been a deliberate test, and his desire to comprehend love was genuine. He had watched with great care what Dexter suffered to protect his sister and friends. It seemed to him that love was a thing to be used, another weapon in this war, but he would have to study it first. The escape of DeeDee was a regrettable loss, but he found himself less interested in her than her brother. So much intelligence driven by such deep emotion – what could explain that? What was love to give Dexter such strength? Why could it only be given, not taken? And why would Dexter refuse him? Was he not, like DeeDee, part of Dexter?

He needed to know. He would know. And Dexter would be the one to show him. No one else would suit his needs and purpose. No one else was intelligent enough to grasp his intent.

The doppleganger stopped in slimy muck halfway up his thighs, staring at the scummy surface. Here. It was right here. He leaned over, feeling about, and his fingers closed over a misshapen, solid object just large enough to fill his hand. Standing, he looked at his finished project.

The super-refined Fusion Matter was an ugly gray-green color, darker than his skin or gloves, and looked like some kind of rotten fruit. It pulsed with power and it was incredibly heavy for its size – even with the extraordinary strength of a Fusion, the Ur-Dexter had difficulty lifting the object. He would have preferred to have put more time into its development in order to make it more powerful still, but it had been the perfect counter to drive off the humans during their rescue mission. Square miles of the planet, everything organic and inorganic, had been reduced to this one, small block. It was not like other Fusion Matter. It was stronger, adapted faster, and it was absolutely unique. There was nothing like this on Planet Fusion. Nothing to compare. And it was all his. His, not Fuse's. His own creation for his own ends.

With a wicked smile he closed his hand tightly over the mass, absorbing it into his own form. When he opened his hand again, the Fusion Matter was gone from sight. He could feel it spread through this body, binding with it, improving it, making him stronger still, separating him a little further from Fuse's control. A laugh bubbled up in his throat, a harsh and angry sound. He curled his fingers into a fist, feeling an intense, primal pleasure at this triumph.

First Dexter, then the Earth, then Fuse. They would all be his. All of them.

But of them all, he wanted Dexter the most.

_Fin?_


End file.
